A Crow From Afar
by WhitherWinds
Summary: Harry Potter has always thought that he was the only one left of his family. That was until Sirius' words in the Shrieking Shack revealed a twin sister. Meanwhile, in a Wizarding Russia drenched in bloody conflict, a letter has called back a Crow to the nest from whence it hatched. Their roads cross and they soon find themselves running parallel in a looming crisis.
1. Chapter 1 - Crow

Chapter 1 - Crow

Her footsteps were brisk and silent as she made her way down the street, neither too fast nor slow, no clues of her intentions can be afforded to be given away by actions. It was evening, the rush hour was on full swing. Roads were swamped with cars and the Muggles didn't seem to pay much heed to the speed limits. Despite the crowd, it wasn't that difficult for her to notice the two hooded figures tailing her.

The wands firmly grasped in their hands weren't that hard to spot as well, not that the same can be said for all the Muggles flocking about.

Her eyes darted to and fro before closing her left eye, as though focusing on the right eye gave all the clarity she needed. Her hand reached up and trailed the scar running down her right eye, from the centre of the eyebrow straight down by two inches. She moved away from the scar and pushed back a stray lock of raven hair behind her ear, whilst tilting her head ever slightly to give her vision of the two figure.

They were wearing masks as well. She inwardly snorted. As though the wands weren't blatant enough. The pair may as well be holding up placards saying 'We are a pair of wizards and we are tailing you'.

The foreign sounding conversations from a passing couple brought the girl out from her reverie. The pair cannot stay on her tail for long, she was going to have to lose them. She didn't have much of an advantage though, she only had her wand with her at the moment, no potions, no devices, no equipment, nothing to tilt the scales of balance in her favour.

How was a yet-to-be-fourteen girl supposed to lose a pair of adult wizards tailing her without openly compromising the Statue of Secrecy? Dragging in the local Magical Law Enforcement is a last resort.

_Think, think, think._

A loud beep of a nearby sedan, following by the guffaw of a pair of passing Muggles, "şübhəsiz zarafat edirsiniz."

_What were the Azerbaijani Laws for Magical Transportation again? Floo is out of the question. Can't apparate myself. Portkeys... portkeys in Azerbaijan... that's right, unrestricted and untracked._

She stole another glance at the hooded pair.

_Can't really just portkey out, if they are on my tail, that means they tracked and traced my previous three portkey destination signatures. On top of that, three portkey hops already put my head in shambles, can't afford another one._

_Or can I..._

She opened her left eye again, as though the right eye had shown her what she need to see. Taking a turn to a two-storey building, she dug her left hand into her jumper and drew her wand, surreptitiously cast an unlocking charm on the door and tried the knob. As she crossed the threshold, she could already guess that the pair of hunters were quickening their steps, she had a scant half-minute to get ready. Pointing the wand at the outside doorknob, she muttered a quick, "_Diffindo_" and caught the severed doorknob, tossing it to the side. A sidelong glance revealed a bowl of fruits, probably for decoration or visitors. Well, the apple would do. She grabbed and started twisting her wand in small circular motions, eyes squinted in concentration. The apple slowly morphed to become more golden and spherical, before finally settling on the appearance of the severed doorknob. A sticking charm to the door soon followed. Finally, she tapped the apple-turned-doorknob and said, "_Portus_".

Nodding at the temporary blue glow in approval, she closed the door with the inside doorknob before heading up the stairs. Reaching the second storey, she headed for the room that gave her a view over the door. Upon entering, she caught the attention of a middle-aged man who was stooped over a desk full of paperwork.

"Sən kimsən? Bu xüsusi mülkdür!"

"_Confundo_" rolled off her lips easily before shoving the man in a corner of the room. One second's worth of memory seeing her wouldn't warrant a memory charm, the man would forget about it.

A glance down the window showed that, just in time, the pair were on the doorstep. The taller of the two pointed his wand at the house and the girl felt a familiar swooping sensation pass through the house. A _'Homenum revelio_' well done, at least the pair had some sense of professionalism. The girl could feel her heart beating faster as the adrenaline begun to enter the bloodstream. The taller one nodded in satisfaction and reached to open the door. Her emerald green eyes shone from the blue glow from the doorknob, or more likely from satisfaction. The taller one was tugged out of sight as though by an invisible hook, the 'doorknob' vanishing along with him. The shorter one froze on the spot, wand arm hanging aloof.

_Element of surprise always works I guess._

Suddenly, an ear-piercing screech of rubber on asphalt rang through the air, followed by a sicking 'crash'. The shorter one immediately whirled towards the sound, back facing the girl completely. She graciously welcomed the opportunity with a stunner to the back, no one would notice the jet of red flying across the air anyway, not with the ongoing commotion on the street. The girl when back downstairs to the doorstep, stowing away the stunned wizard's wand and placing said wizard in a full-body bind. She took a moment to look down the street to the previously busy intersection and regard her handiwork. Speeding Muggles did come in useful in this case. The taller wizard lay on the middle of the intersection, bent and broken with a gruesome white bone protruding out from his side, a pool of blood already forming, lying a few feet away from a car sporting a bend bonnet. A small crowd had formed, with one man - probably the unfortunate third party - yapping away in clear confusion and panic. In the dead wizard's hand was a doorknob, by the time people may have taken notice of that, the transfiguration would have worn off to its less suspicious original form, the local Magical Law Enforcement team probably wouldn't be checking an apple for traces of magic, if they ever came to investigate.

Turing back to the stunned leftover, she levitated the body and had it following her obediently. She made her way to the back door with body in tow, moving to the back alley. There, an old Toyota pickup was already waiting, the teenage driver laid back in his seat with an almost finished fag in his hand. With that ruffled brown hair, torn leather jacket and ripped jeans, he was begging to be looked upon as a punk and rebel. A grin graced his face as he caught sight of the girl, "Finally here Anya? You took your time. And who that charming companion of yours?"

"This _charming companion_ is the reason I _took my time_ to begin with," the girl, Anya, replied with a scowl. "He and his partner managed to tail me across three portkey jumps, they aren't completely incompetent and they had to know about this."

"Which is why you brought him for questioning," the boy nodded sagely. "More importantly, you got the dossier?"

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't, two thousand galleons worth of blackmail in the bag. Now shut up and let me in, make sure the notice-me-not charms are good, because any Muggle law enforcement officer will ask for your driving license with one look at you."

**XXXXX**

_**Thirteen years ago...**_

Albus Dumbledore paced down the cobbled walkway, checking his pocket watch once again. Hagrid should be coming anytime soon. Stopping at a bridge, he gazed at the river beneath, letting his thoughts stray. Too many lives lost, too much innocent blood shed in this war, Harry Potter truly was a miracle in ending this war. No, he didn't end this war, he merely established a ceasefire. The war has yet to end, Voldemort is not gone and Harry will be instrumental in finally ending the war years down the road. Harry would have to go to his last living relatives, the Death Eaters still walk amongst the crowd and many seek the blood of the Boy-Who-Lived, the blood wards set in place by Lily's sacrifice will be the best protection for him. However, there was still another issue to resolve.

The roar of a motorbike shook Dumbledore out of his thoughts, he look up at the sky and observed the motorbike's journey through the air and the half-giant steering it. The motorcycle landed on the bridge with a screeching halt in front of Dumbledore, the half-giant climbed out of the motorcycle and made his way over.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, letting out a breath of relief. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," the giant replied, shifting the bundle of blankets gently from one arm to another. "Young Sirius Black lent it me, I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed but I got them both out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. They fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol. Blimey Professor, I didn't even know James an' Lily had a daughter."

Dumbledore bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a pair of babies, a boy and a girl, both fast asleep.

"Yes, this would be Anne Potter, Harry's little twin sister. James and Lily kept her a secret," said Dumbledore, inspecting the twins. "And this wound...?"

"Aye, sir. Sirius Black patched up her eye before giving 'er to me, seemed like You-Know-Who did it before turning on Harry. Will she be alright, sir?"

The lightning bolt shaped cut on the boy's forehead was likely the handiwork of Voldemort. The girl too had a cut, this one running down her right eye, that eye will never see the light of day again.

_She no longer has her right eye, now she a liability. Harry can't be allowed to be with her._

"I don't know myself, Hagrid. Voldemort seemed to have cursed it," replied Dumbledore, continuing as he took the twins off Hagrid's arm. "I will try my best where Sirius left off, but I can make no promises."

"Could I - could I say goodbye to both of them, sir?" asked Hagrid.

"Very well, Hagrid. A short one please. Minerva is waiting at the Dursleys' for me, best that I don't tarry."

Hagrid bent over and gave the twins each a kiss on the before taking out his large spotted handkerchief, sobbing loudly onto it.

"C-c-can't believe it, Lily dead, James dead, an' their children off ter live with Muggles...tha' with little Anne still injured," sobbed Hagrid, moving back to the motorbike. "I'd best get this bike away, sir. G'night, Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine to life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

Dumbledore was left to his own thoughts, he shook his head gently and calmly regarded the twins that lay on his arms. Harry would go to the Dursleys', that was the best for him. Anne was the issue, she no longer had her asset against Voldemort, Tom saw to that himself.

_The girl lies in the dark, hands stained crimson. Her right eye a gift to endanger the Dark Lord..._

She could not be left with Harry too, she would only lead him astray in the future. If she still had her right eye, it could have been worth it to let the two grow up together. To have each other to rely on. But now, she was no longer gifted to fight against Voldemort, only Harry was. All she would do now is lead Harry to the dark in the future were she to stay with Harry, and the boy cannot afford to turn to the dark, not when he has to face Voldemort.

_And should the twins be together, the heart of light will embrace the dark while the child of dark remains in the shadows..._

Dumbledore stared at the girl, his sharp blue eyes peering into her peaceful demeanour, searching for an answer. He could leave her to another family, but magical or Muggle, she will still come back on the eleventh of September when the Hogwarts letter reaches her. There she will still come into contact with Harry, he could try to keep them apart, but there would be no guarantees.

Unless...

Dumbledore placed Anne down onto a nearby bench, drawing out his wand. He levelled it against her, an incantation almost that the tip of his tongue. Drawing a deep breath, his shoulders seem to sag under the responsibility of the act he was about to commit. At the last moment, he jerked his wand arm back, head sagging down, he let out a breath he did not know he was holding. No, he would not stoop to Voldemort's level.

But this was for the war effort against Voldemort in the future, he could not allow for any mistakes. He steeled himself once more and gazed upon at the girl with an electrifying fire in his eyes. Yes, this had to be done, Harry cannot be afforded to be held back against Voldemort, this had to be done. It is for the greater good.

_Greater good, Albus?_

A voice, gruff and familiar, rang through his head.

_You always drone on and on about the greater good don't you? You and Grindelwald._

_And because of this greater good, we lost Ariana. I lost Ariana._

_Which poor little girl is going to die because of your greater good this time, Albus?_

The steely look on his face snapped and that electrifying fire in his eyes disappeared, doused by a cold swooping sensation in his chest. His shoulders sagged once more, this time shaking. Raising a sleeve to his face, he wiped the two trails of tears gently rolling down his cheeks.

"Ariana, I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't mean to..."

He stepped forward and leaned over to the small bundle that was Anne Potter. "Anne, I'm so sorry... so sorry..." he croaked." Please forgive me..."

He waved his wand over the girl's face and the bleeding from the right eye stopped entirely. Stepping back with Harry in his arms, he turned around and left the bundle on the wooden bench. With one last glace at the girl, with trembling lips and teary eyes, Albus Dumbledore bid Anne Potter his final farewell. "I'm sorry Anne, this is for your brother. I hope you can forgive me."

Looking away from the bench and straight ahead, Dumbledore kept his head locked forward, as though another look at the girl would break his resolve. With a spin, he apparated into the night, leaving the girl behind.

**XXXXX**

An old Toyota pickup stopped in front of a dumpy apartment flat, Anya stepped out and looked. The building was old and dingy, its purple coat of paint peeling off and faded into a dull grey. Despite the sky darkening under the setting sun, only a few windows had signs of light and life creeping out.

"Ominous, no?" she said to herself sardonically, before turning back to the pickup. "Oi, Dimitri. Get the man out and let go, it's getting cold."

No response. "_Dvigat'sya uzhe_," she sighed, chucking a nearby pebble at the pickup.

"_Khorosho ya idu_," replied the teenager, Dimitri, scowling at the offending pebble. He held his wand like a baton, levitating an unconscious and bound man in tow. "_Ne nuzhno brosat' kamni, mne tozhe ne nravitsya etot kholod._"

The pair walked up to the apartment flat, climbing up the flight of stairs and stopping at the third floor. A walk down the hallway ended with a drab concrete wall in sight. Dimitri dug his hand into his jeans pocket and produced a key, shoving it into the wall, the key seemed to sink into the wall with ease. A twist and an audible click of a doorlock opening was heard, pushing the wall revealed a doorway to an apartment room, furnished with basic wooden tables and chairs. A mouldy sofa sat in a corner and the wallpaper seemed not to different from the building's paintwork.

They were promptly greeted by a wiry Asian, dressed in a jumper and slacks similar to Anya, looking just as young as the pair. His dark eyes narrowed in suspicion, flickering back and forth between the pair and settling on the floating unconscious form behind the pair. Finally, he turned to Dimitri and asked in anticipation, "你就是谁呢？"

"Wei Jen, I don't speak Mandarin and we both know that," replied Dimitri evenly. "We've got the dossier and a prisoner for interrogation."

"Well said, Dim, come in" the Asian replied with a slight accent, smiling warmly whilst moving aside to get them room to enter. His smile then slipped into a mocking grin. "Four years of the old man nagging and you still can't get the hang of Mandarin."

"Jen. Good to see you."

"Same here, Anya."

"Not my fault languages aren't my forte," Dimitri shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the mocking nickname. "I suck in Mandarin and you suck in Russian, the feeling is mutual. You don't hear me mocking you when the old man scolds you for not learning Russian properly."

"And then we have Anya," stated the Asian – Jen – brightly, facing the girl and shaking hands. "The old man's best linguistic student; English, Russian, Mandarin and Tamil, all under your belt."

"Spare me the flattery or I'll hex you," replied Anya fondly, a small grin betraying her face of mock sternness. "It's all required for the job."

Jen closed the door behind them and moved over to inspect the unconscious body, drawing out his wand and prodding it in various places. With a sweeping wave of the wand, the unconscious man's clothes were jerked off roughly, revealing a tattooed panther across the man's chest.

"Ang San Cartel," Jen mumbled, running his hand down from his sharp jawline to his chin. He then turned around, beginning to search through the clothes for any clues. "Well, I'm honestly surprised they're intervening in this blackmail operation, I thought their operating branches only spanned the Southeast, furthest being the Bangladeshi branch."

"Maybe it has to do with us assassinating said Bangladeshi branch leader," offered Dimitri. "Old man didn't seem fond them to begin with, eye for an eye for an eye?"

"Heh, maybe," chuckled Jen, he suddenly tilted his and screwed his face up in concentration before snapping his fingers in realisation. "就提醒了我! Anya, the old man asked me to pass you a message."

He strode over to a dining table pickup an envelope and passing it to a perplexed Anya, who tore the envelope open.

"A plane ticket back to Russia for tomorrow, what does old man Nathaniel want we me now? We just got the blackmail dossier done."

"Dim and I will handle the dossier and the interrogation. He said that all will be explained back at Arkhangelsk, mentioned something about Gringotts and Hogwarts."


	2. Chapter 2 - Gringotts Letter

Chapter 2 – Gringotts Letter

The sharp bump of the airplane's landing jerked Anya from her light slumber, informing her that she arrived at Arkhangelsk, she ran her fingers through her low ponytail and let out a groan. As comfortable as airplane flights could be, Anya preferred saving seven hours by simply taking an international portkey. Then again, with a cartel possibly tailing her, it was much easier albeit tedious to leave a country via the Muggle way. Everyone is usually too fixated on Floo routes, portkey signatures and apparition traces to even glance at an airport or train station.

A steady stream of people left the airplane and began to trickle down to the customs checkpoint. Talagi Airport was a drab first reminder of the Soviet-era Anya spent her childhood growing up in, its blocky design and dull grey and white colour scheme all too familiar.

"_Natalya Polivanova?_" the customs officer inquired, lazily looking down at the passport

"_Da_."

"_Dobro pozhalovat' domoy,_" grunted the customs officer, stamping and unceremoniously shoving the passport back to Anya.

Leaving the arrival gates, she scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Her face perk up as she finally spotted her welcoming party, the head of short silver hair standing out amongst the crowd. Warm grey eyes were gazing at her, inspecting her for any signs of unease or injuries. The sharp clack of his ebony boots reverberated throughout the terminal as he strode over in a confident and smart gait. Donned in an elegant green jacket and sleek white pants, the middle aged man radiated an aura of superiority.

"_Moya malen'kaya vorona_," said the man, pulling Anya into a hug. "_Ya skuchal po tebe_."

"It's only been two weeks, Nathaniel," Anya replied, pulling out from him embrace. "You don't really miss me. If anything, you're glad us _deti_ are all down in Azerbaijan."

"True," the man replied with a deep laugh, stroking his goatee, his accent was much like Anya's, indiscernible. "I haven't had that much peace and quiet in a long time. Come now, let's go."

A short drive soon took the pair to a quiet neighbourhood, blocks of flats stood row in row. The light grey brick walls and bluish-grey roofs brought a wave of familiarity over Anya, an occasional one painted in moss-green or ochre-orange bringing a touch of variety to the otherwise stale colour scheme. Birch trees lined up along just about every pothole-filled road and wild ungroomed shrubbery sprang up along the building walls. It was far from neat, it was far from inviting, but Anya grew up to love it. To her it had its own special charm.

"Anya, we're here, get your bag."

Anya obliged, heading to the boot of the car and pulling out her knapsack. She followed Nathaniel into one of the blocks. No sooner had she closed the door when a house-elf popped in, his head dipped in a low bow.

"_Gospodin, devushka_, allow Nippy please," and with a snap of his willowy fingers, both he and Anya's knapsack disappeared.

The pair climbed up to the third floor and a walk into one of the flats revealed not a dwelling like one would expect. Instead, the entirety of the flat has been renovated into a large dining hall, walls that divided rooms removed to make the place spacious. Nathaniel had, in fact, purchased the entire block. The first and second floor had been rented out to fellow wizards and witches, a few ignorant Muggles and a rare tolerant Muggle, with no alterations to the rooms. The upper floors on the other hand, had been mostly renovated to his preference.

Panelled floor and walls of oak seemed to be the theme for the room - for most rooms actually - and in the centre sat a long table surrounded by chairs. An elderly man sat at on the chairs, dressed thick grey robes with purple trimmings, his ashen hair touching his shoulders. A small pile galleons lay in front of him as he hunched over a thick tome, quill in one hand and pointed nose almost touching the pages.

A flicker of the eyes and a short nod was all the recognition he gave the pair.

"_Anya, ty nakonets prishel, eto pis'mo tol'ko chto pribylo iz Gringotts. Vam nuzhno bu_-"

"Uncle, Russian on the streets, lingua franca at home. That's how it goes in the business and that's how it will go in home." Nathaniel reminded, pulling out a seat for himself.

"As I was saying," the elder continued in a thick Russian accent, scowling at Nathaniel for the interruption. "You need to open this letter, goblin seals are in place, contents of letter will burn if unintended hands open it."

Anya took the letter and looked at it, the red Gringotts seal stamped on it, bearing its coat of arms, goblin runes along its edge and finally the words "Londinium" took place at the bottom of the seal. She then looked at the addressee.

_Miss A. Potter_

_Floor 5, Unit 3_

_Partizanskaya Ulitsa, 58_

_Arkhangel'sk, Arkhangelskaya oblast'_

_Russia_

"What makes you think that I'm Miss A. Potter?" Anya asked the elder, waving the letter.

"You're the only Spook I picked up in England, and the seal shows Gringotts' London Branch. I can add two and two together, _devushka_."

"You never told me you found me in England."

"And you never asked, surprisingly."

"Why did you pick me up anyway?"

"Why wouldn't I pick up a witch capable of accidental magic as a baby?" the elder scoffed, turning back to his tome and galleons. "Found you on a bench on a bridge, crying and completely starving. With the November cold and your inadequate clothing it was a wonder you didn't die from the cold first. Turns out you kept up a warming charm using accidental magic the whole time you were abandoned, of course I was going to pick you up with that level of innate magical capacity."

"Well, what are you staring for?" the elder demanded with a sneer, eyes never leaving the tome. "If it's a Gringotts letter, gold is involved. And I want to find out what they want."

"Ebenezer Scrooge reborn," Anya muttered, tearing open the letter and pulling out the parchment from within, pleased that it did not burn up. She began reading the letter, eyebrows rising higher and higher with each passing line.

"Well, what does it say?" the elder barked impatiently, stabbing the quill in the inkpot.

"Apparently, I'm the twin sister to Britain's famous Harry Potter and heir to half of the Potter fortune."

Nathaniel rose his eyebrows in amused curiosity, his eyes holding a sparkle of shrewdness suddenly dancing within. The elder all but barked out, "What?!" moving to snatch up the letter from Anya's hands.

_Dear Miss Anne Lily Potter_

_Gringotts wishes you an early Happy Birthday and also wishes to remind you that you still stand available to claim your inheritance from your parents, James Potter and Lily Potter née Evans._

_As your parents did not leave any registered will behind at the time if their deaths, the inheritance will default to the Potter succession law of primogeniture. However, the succession law states that twins will be treated as a single entity and thus inheritance will be treated under gavelkind. In this case, you are entitled to half of the contents of House Potter Vault, along with various assets such as overseas property._

_Please note that as your twin brother Harry James Potter is the older sibling, and thus the Head of House Potter, he will inherit the House Potter Vault actual. You can set up a personal vault of your own for the transfer of your inheritance or come to an agreement with your twin brother._

_However, do note that claiming your inheritance comes under certain conditions. Firstly, it is under the wish of your grandmother Dorea Potter née Black, that any daughter of the Potter complete - at the minimum - their OWL education in Hogwarts specifically in order to claim inheritance unless she is the final heir. This has been established in order to ensure that the Potter wealth can only be inherited by a responsible witch brought up under proper British wizarding culture. This addition to the Potter succession law has been installed by then Head of House, Charlus Potter, and has not changed since._

_As you have yet to register under Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this letter acts as a two year buffer reminder should you desire to claim your inheritance as you should be eligible for OWLs at the spring of 1996. Please note that this has been the thirteenth letter sent to you._

_Secondly, as you have been registered as 'missing' since the winter of 1991 you will need to register your existence in order to claim your inheritance. Gringotts can understand if your status as 'missing' has been due to private reasons and as such, offers the alternative of abstaining from registering in the British Ministry of Magic and instead register in Gringotts alone. Please be reassured that your confidentiality can be protected under Gringotts._

_Do note that you will have to be at Gringotts in person to register your existence, you will also be able to check the value of your inheritance there._

_We look forward to meeting you. May gold ever flow through your fingers._

_Goldtooth Longfinger,_

_Head of Gringotts Department of Inheritance._

"_Blagoslovite menya_," the elder muttered, eyes twinkling in obvious greed as he faced Nathaniel. "This is windfall indeed."

"At what cost?" asked Anya, coming back from the kitchen with an Invigoration Draught in hand. "Having to take up schooling in this Hogwarts. And from what I remember about magical education, I'll have quite a bit to catch up, probably need to register in the coming term if that's the case. Is the Potter fortune worth two years of my time?"

"Most likely," Nathaniel said, eyeing the vial in Anya's hand with distaste. "The Potters have multiple patents to their name, Skele-gro being one of them if I remember. As for catching up, you can spend the rest of the summer and your free time in Hogwarts doing so. I didn't completely neglect your magical education."

"That means that they will be rich," the elder grinned. "This opportunity is too good to pass up, nephew. Bring Anya to London as soon as you can."

"Of course, uncle. There is a job there for us anyway, and Anya can help out with that."

"I can?" Anya asked as she downed the entire vial, shuddering in relief.

"The four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup takes place in Britain and there's a contract I signed on with a rich wizard, just providing security. We can go to Gringotts first, look at the inheritance and make a choice. Then, we head up to the world cup site and recce the area."

"And how do I help?"

"Well, I could always use a sniper on site."

**XXXXX**

Harry Potter never really did enjoy his birthdays. This abruptly changed last year when Hedwig and Errol finally brought gifts, cards and well-wishes for a change, and he was pleased when this year was similar. Along with the usual array of candy, a combination of Errol, Hedwig, a Hogwarts owl and a flashy tropical bird brought him cakes and birthday cards from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid and Sirius each. With the diet ongoing in the Dursley household, they were a life saver.

Life with the Dursleys had improved, albeit slightly, with Sirius' help. Having an accused mass murder for a godfather did apply good pressure on the Dursleys. However, being able to spend his birthdays with others would be a large improvement. The Weasleys, Sirius, all of them would be nice to spend birthdays with.

_Or maybe your sister. _

That nagging voice bit him harder than it should have, it was nice being able to rejoin your loving godfather but just as sour to learn from him that you lost your sister on the same night your parents died. He had long gotten over his parents' deaths, but this brought a fresh wave of grief.

_Pettigrew had his back against the wall, eyes staring at the tip of two wands, terror etched to his face. Sirius and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised._

_"You should have realised," said Lupin quietly. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."_

_"NO!" Harry yelled. He ran forwards, placing himself in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."_

_Both Lupin and Sirius looked staggered._

_"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you and your sister have no parents," Sirius snarled. "This cringing bit of-"_

_"My sister?" Harry interrupted, eyes widening in shock. "My sister?"_

_He turned towards Lupin, whose faced mirrored the same expression, staring at Sirius. He looked back at Sirius, the anger on Sirius' face faltered a little and he froze for a few seconds. Finally, he managed to croak out. "Isn't Anne in Hogwarts here with you?"_

_"Anne?"_

_"Don't you know who Anne Potter is?"_

_Harry slowly shook his head, a pit of dread pooling in his stomach. Sirius anger came back tenfold, shoved pass Harry and slashed his wand upwards. Pettigrew slammed up against the ceiling violently before falling back in a crumpled heap. Cords exploded from the tip of Sirius' wand, pinning Pettigrew hard against the wall. Pettigrew's head snapped back against the wall, knocking him out cold. Sirius moved towards the unconscious heap, trembling in rage._

"_Not only did you cause the deaths of James and Lily, you had to cause a harmless girl to die too." Sirius snarled, bringing his wand up once again._

_Lupin leaped forward and grabbed Sirius' arms, holding him back. "Padfoot, calm down, you need to explain what's going on. What do you mean Harry's sister?" he wheezed out as he fought hard to hold a struggling Sirius back, whose emaciated state was made up for by sheer anger. "Dammit Padfoot, I said calm down."_

_Sirius finally gave up on his struggle, sagging down onto his knees. His hand grabbed his hair wildly with a lost expression on his eyes. Suddenly, he pounced up and grabbed Harry's shoulder, shaking him as he asked in desperation, "Is there any girl in your year, the same black hair and green eyes as yours?" _

_Harry thought for a while before mutely shaking his head again. Sirius stumbled back onto the ground as though the shake of Harry's head was a blow to his gut. With shaking hands, he clenched his hand on the floorboard, fingernails scratching against wood. He started mumbling to himself in grief, "Couldn't be, it couldn't be. I could have sworn I healed it. I could have sworn I healed it. I could have sworn I healed it. What if it wasn't enough? What if by the time Dumbledore got her, the damage what beyond healing. I failed. I failed. I failed. Merlin, what have I done? I failed James, I failed Lily and now Anne. I had one job. I had one job. I HAD ONE DAMNED JOB!"_

_Sirius ended off the last sentence with a scream, startling everyone around. Lupin knelt beside Sirius and gently gripped his shoulders. "Breath in, breath out. Calm down, and when you feel like it can you tell us what is going on?"_

"_Moony, it was James and Lily. They-they had twins, it wasn't just Harry. They had a daughter as well, Harry's twin sister, Anne." Everybody's eyes widen in shock, but Sirius took no notice and continued. "I don't know why but they kept Anne a secret. It was only them, Dumbledore, me and Peter who knew about her. I'm sorry we didn't tell you about her Moony, we thought you were the spy."_

"_What happened to her?" Harry asked, fist clenching._

"_When I went to your parents' house, I found the both of you in the nursery. You were there in the crib crying, the scar on your head still bleeding. Anne, sh-she…" Sirius faltered, covering his face with his hands and Lupin rubbed his back soothingly. "Voldemort cursed her right eye, sliced it with dark magic."_

_There was a collective gasp across the room, Hermione covered her mouth with her hands, tears welling up. Both Ron and Lupin winched. Harry stood frozen as Sirius continued on._

"_There was blood all over her face, she was in a right mess. I rushed over and did what I could, I thought I healed her up fine. I left the house with the both of you and ran into Hagrid. I wanted to keep both of you with me, I was your godfather after all, but Hagrid insisted I pass the both of you to him, said that Dumbledore would know what to do with the both of you, and so I did. I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake. I should have taken her straight to St. Mungo's, what was I playing at? Trying to heal her myself, and Hagrid would have taken too long to reach Dumbledore."_

"_It's alright Padfoot, you did what you could in the given situation. I would have done the same if I were in your shoes," Lupin said calmly, he looked at Pettigrew and back at Harry. "Well, Harry, do you still want him alive? You always had a kind heart, but I wouldn't fault you if you want him dead."_

"_No," Harry answered, after a long hesitation. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors. I reckon my dad wouldn't want his best mates to be murderers."_

After the whole incident at the Shrieking Shack, time-turner included, Harry went straight to Hagrid's as soon as he was discharged. He did not want to ask Dumbledore about Anne, it felt wrong in his gut going to him for answers. At Hagrid's hut, a weeping Hagrid told Harry about the fate of his sister, the joyous mood from Buckbeak's escape ruined. There, Harry learnt that Dumbledore told Hagrid that Anne did not make it and succumbed to her injury. Since, almost no one knew about the existence of Anne Potter, they thought it best to avoid dredging up unnecessary grief.

It solved a puzzle Harry had back in his first year when he gazed into the Mirror of Erised. He had wondered who the girl was standing next to him. She was lithe and pretty with a scar down her right eye. However, the right eye itself – as though in defiance of the scar – seemed very much alive and sparkled curiously. She very much resembled their mother, except for the hair colour. She and Harry both bore the same raven hair – albeit neat compared to Harry's, probably inherited from Lily instead of James - and vivid green eyes. A small part of Harry still held that glimmer of hope that just maybe Dumbledore or Hagrid or even Sirius made a mistake, that it was the wrong child they picked up all along. Instead, somewhere out there was Anne Potter, living with another family. But wouldn't she have entered Hogwarts with him? Harry didn't remember any girls in his year with his black hair and green eyes.

_Maybe she's a squib, or her family moved out of Britain, or sent her to a different school. There's definitely other wizarding schools besides Hogwarts._

Turning, he stared at the cake Sirius gave, his godfather went the extra length by charming a still burning candle on the cake. Wistfully, he closed his eyes and blew the candle.

_Just this once, give me the chance to have my family back._


	3. Chapter 3 - Through Line Riddled Lens

Chapter 3 – Through Line Riddled Lens

**July 1992**

Blaring horns, massive crowds and a deluge of rain, to say that it was a chore traversing through Bombay during the July monsoon was an understatement. Anya weaved through the crowd, clutching her raincoat ever closer, and promising herself to commit to mastering the Impervius charm after this was over. She shifted and adjusted her knapsack, as though confirming its weight would gave her reassurance. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial of Invigoration Draught, swallowing the whole dose in a gulp. She went for a second vial but stopped halfway, she would save that one for later. Her supply was short, and it wouldn't do to blow them all in a single session, not when everyone was beginning to lock up all the Invigoration Draughts the group had in store. She was sick of the stink eye she received every time she asked for Invigoration Draughts.

"You see anything yet?" her partner, a lanky Russian asked.

Her right eye seemed to flicker and shine with its own life. Strands of colour danced and twisted about her vision, crimson, violet, turquoise and more, each varying in thickness, opacity and movement. They came from everywhere and nowhere, twisting about alleyways, sprouting from her partner and even spiralling out of thin air. Everything was clear, each detail in the crowd and street lucid. From a turn into a drugstore, she finally saw what she was searching for, a thin strand of light blue coiling out of the store, almost transparent amidst the crowd and rain. Their man was smart, relying on the vast quantity of Muggles and the rain to hide his trail.

"Aleks, found it. Drugstore on the left. Portkey signature."

Aleks took the lead, a nondescript wave of his wand to check and clear the place. He strode in and scanned the place finally settling on the shopkeeper. Seeing what appeared to be an Indian father and son duo, the burly Indian gave him an oily smile, welcoming him in a rapid jabber of Hindi. Aleks pointed his wand straight at him and placed him under a Confundus charm.

"That's a sign our glamours worked," Aleks muttered, turning to Anya. "Alright Crow, start working."

Moving to the source of the blue coils, Anya squatted down and peered at the portkey signature, magical traces left behind by an activated portkey. Light bluish lines were gently coiling out from a single hovering ball of blue light beside a shelf of aspirin. Only at a feet above the ground, the ball was the size of a knut. Upon closer inspection, the ball was more like a clump of fragmented strands, each strand slightly different in hue, opacity and vibrating differently in amplitude and frequency. Anya began her work, drawing out her wand and jabbing the ball, muttering under her breath she worked on deciphering the portkey signature. Once the spell was completed, she felt a hum from the tip of her wand traveling down to her wrist where a miniscule script of runes encircled her wrist completely, etched in ink. The humming sensation concentrated on the runes and ink seemed to bleed out of her skin, beneath the set of runes. The ink twirled and twisted into a set of numbers.

_19°04'15.2"N 72°52'21.3"E_

Aleks' was admittedly impressed, he could she why Nathaniel trusted her to perform important roles. Aurors usually track down portkey signatures and decrypt their intended destination through expensive devices and very complex charm work. This girl just used her eye and a runic script, and she performed with clear professionalism. In fact, he was only here to assist, recommend and provide a source of side-along-apparition. She dug her free right hand into her pocket and pulled out a GPS and punched in the numbers, taking a good look at the results.

"Portkey leads to a bridge, just a few klicks out," said Anya, passing over the device to Aleks. "Any recommendations?"

Checking the portkey destination via map or any other means was always a necessary precaution in their line of work. Too many people died from apparating or portkeying straight to a portkey destination without caution.

"This building should do fine," replied Aleks, tilting the device for Anya to see as he pointed at the screen. "Good elevation, appropriate distance."

Anya nodded in agreement and grabbed Aleks' offered hand. With a spin, both of them apparated away with a 'pop'. One unpleasant trip took the pair atop a high rise building, Aleks took point, going straight for the rooftop access and sealing the access door with a locking spell. Anya started preparing, moving methodically, she lowered her knapsack and took out a pair of omniculars a set it on the floor. A few sticks of chalk followed and she began drawing out a circle of runes, right before the rooftop parapet and large enough to accommodate the pair. Once done, she double checked her work, nodding in approval at the disillusionment rune script. She motioned Aleks to come over and the pair settled themselves within the circle, Aleks took the omniculars and propped his elbows on the parapet while Anya rapped her wand on the floor, pumping magic into the runes.

She closed her left eye and stared at the runes for a few seconds, seeing the twirl of translucent glass-like cords seeping out from the runes. "Cloaking is good."

Aleks grunted in response, shoving the omniculars against his eyes and began to scout out the disclosed bridge. Finally, Anya took out the last item from her knapsack, her prized possession. It was a SVD-63, a Dragunov sniper rifle, developed in the Soviet Union and the second half of the two-part gift Nathaniel gave her for her seventh birthday. The rifle came with a wooden handguard and stock, runes were craved all over the rifle, from the muzzle down to the stock. Within the rifle, each individual parts too were carved with runes, from firing pin to trigger. At the bolt carrier, a single dragon heartstring was embedded in the metal. Anya pulled out the magazine and checked the bullets, the runes engraved on them were in order, and so she slid the magazine back in. Satisfied, she began scanning the bridge along with Aleks, each taking a side of the bridge and both working in silence. This went on for a few minutes before Aleks sounded out.

"Anya, I think I found him, can't confirm in this rain though, visibility is bad. There's a gathering of people on the bridge. Eastern part of the bridge. Range, thousand and three hundred meters."

Peering through the scope, Anya confirmed her partner's suspicion. In front of the traffic was a Chinese in a suit, briefcase in hand, at least he had the decency to look Muggle. He stood on the walkway of the bridge, facing a lanky Indian, this one did not possess the similar level of subtlety, dressed in extravagant robes of magenta. Both men seemed to be in deep conversation, the surrounding people loitering about had to be the bodyguards. This had to be the target, Anya could see the strings of magic sprouting out from all of them, there simply would not be another gathering of wizards so close to the portkey destination.

"You're right on that, Aleks," Anya confirmed, beginning to slow her breathing down as she rested her Dragunov on the parapet, adjusting the crosshair on her quarry. As her finger closed about the trigger, familiar white lines flickered into her vision, from her periphery to her target. It twirled and pulsated in an uneven spiral, like a cord being unwound and wound.

_Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale._

_Unwound. Wound. Unwound. Wound._

At her final exhale, the lines converged and drew taut. Her finger squeezed against the trigger and she felt the satisfying recoil of her rifle and heard only the whisper of a soft 'thump'. In the scope, she saw a thin spray of crimson erupt from her quarry's head. He was dead, there was no doubt. No amount of healing magic can revive a person who took a bullet in the head. Not when the runes on the bullet ensured that it violently fragmented within the head, rupturing the brain. The surrounding wizards drew out their wands and began casting spells all over the bridge, but the deed was done.

"That's a hit," Aleks said, tossing the omniculars and chalk back in the knapsack. He waited for Anya to stow her rifle and sling her knapsack before grabbing her hand. A wave of his wand erased any traces of the runic circle Anya drew. The bullet casing on the floor went ignored, the runes etched on it would vanish it away in ten seconds, same for the bullet fragments lodged in their quarry's head. Immediately, he spun about and apparated the both of them away, they would be taking the next flight from India to Thailand, before bouncing back to Russia and relaxing over a job well done.

**XXXXX**

"So, any regrets?" Nathaniel asked, drumming his fingers against a wooden table. "It's not a bad choice after all."

The Leaky Cauldron was packed and filled with an excited buzzed, the Quidditch World Cup fever was reaching its apex, wizards and witches were all discussing on the upcoming finals. Forecast, bets and debates we're being passed around throughout the pub. Nathaniel and Anya, on the other hand, silently sat down in a corner of the pub, both nursing a bottle of butterbeer.

The trip to Gringotts had been very enlightening, Anya remembered the height in which her eyebrows rose when she saw the number of digits in the Potter account. The properties she stood to gain were good too, they spanned from Britain itself to other countries such as France, Italy and Norway. All this for two years of schooling to scrape a couple of OWLs. It wasn't a bad idea, she could take this as an extended break from her usual line of jobs. On top of that, completion of OWL education only meant obtaining a minimum of three OWLs. After a lengthy discussion with Nathaniel, they agreed on placing Anya in Hogwarts for the inheritance, it was more than worth the time. Nathaniel had already drew up some bogus academic certificates from a random magical school in Russia, it should be enough to get Anya's 'transfer' to Hogwarts approved. The Hogwarts Board of Governors would not bother to look deep into her records, not with the magical government of Russia in such a sorry state. At least the massive screw up Nathaniel's grandfather made had some good come out from it.

With that choice made, all that followed was a signing of a few Gringotts paperwork and a blood authentication check to confirm her existence within Gringotts' records. A trip down Diagon Alley was in order, books, potions ingredients and robes soon found themselves within a magically expanded duffel bag. Once everything was settled, the pair found themselves in Leaky Cauldron.

"None at all Nathaniel," mused Anya. "I mean... I suppose I get to be a 'normal' kid for two years. Maybe that will do wonders for me."

"You can take the girl out of the Spook, but you can't take the Spook out of the girl."

"That's cheesy and you ought to be ashamed of yourself," Anya replied with an amused smile, she finished the last of her butterbeer before asking Nathaniel. "Shouldn't we be going soon?"

Nathaniel nodded in response and gestured for her to leave, the both of them left the pub to the Muggle world of London. They went to a deserted alleyway and Nathanial side-along-apparated Anya and him both to the Quidditch World Cup site. The pair landed a mile away from the actual grounds, with staff from both the Department of Magical Games and Sports and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement running all over the ground in preparations, it would not be wise to apparate right in the middle of it all without permission.

They both begin their respective work, Nathanial started scouting out the area, probing the ward systems and taking note of the security details in place. He had signed on a contract to provide protection to one Ethan Dawn, a rich wizarding business man who made one too many enemies cutting out bad deals, scams and lawsuits. Death threats came in Howlers and cursed letters, but he was an ardent Quidditch fan, there was no way he was going to miss out on the Quidditch World Cup – especially one hosted in his country. Still, he was a cautious man all too aware of many people who would be glad to see a curse hit his back. A short talk with one of his business partners soon brought a certain network into his view and the contract was put, with a tidy sum stated at the end of the contract.

Anya just sat on the ground and began fishing out the textbooks from her duffel bag. Despite Nathaniel, his uncle and various other people teaching her magic, in terms of the schooling syllabus she was still in a second-year standard as they only taught her spells they considered 'necessary'. After all, certain charms and potions may be useful, but in her line of work, charms to make inanimate objects dance are next to stupid and potions can simply be bought instead of brewed. With that in mind, Nathaniel insisted she began catching up the moment she got her books. If she wanted to avoid joining the third-years when she was old enough for the forth-year, she better get her bearings straight.

However, with only a minimum of three OWLs to be considered as receiving an OWL education, Anya had the freedom to cherry pick her focus of studies. In all honesty, she felt that she was already set to get three OWLs, Nathaniel had a talent in transfiguration and so did she, he drilled her hard on transfiguration as it was often used and he had a bias towards it. For her electives, she was going for Study of Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies. These she felt she could already take the OWLs for them, nearly all the runic modifications to her equipment were done by herself and being raised in practically a Muggle environment meant that Muggle Studies was a free pass. In fact, without any actual studying, Muggle Studies should be a free Outstanding to any Muggleborns and at least a free Acceptable to any Half-bloods. Transfiguration, Study of Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies, these three could be her aces, and any other subject was of secondary concern.

This pattern of Nathaniel scouting and Anya studying went on for the rest of the duration, with only an interruption in the form of a Hogwarts owl confirming that Anya's application for transfer was accepted. Days flew by and soon, the day of the Quidditch World Cup finals arrived. Anya once again found herself laying on the ground within a disillusionment rune circle, omniculars in hand and her Dragunov beside her. She was positioned atop a small hill overlooking the site, the camping site and path to the stadium were all in her field of vision. Half her attention was on picking out threats while the other half amused herself with the outlandish array of muggle clothing the wizards and witches donned amidst an equally outlandish array of blatantly magical tents, the Oblivators were probably having a headache at the moment.

Nathaniel would be with Dawn in person as a bodyguard, the later had already procured a ticket for the former as part of the contract. Since it was agreed upon that anyone with the intent of harming Dawn would unlikely do so in a crowded stadium for all to see, Anya only needed to cover the camping grounds and the path to the stadium. The relatively emptier camping grounds and footpaths to the stadium with the nearby forests provided more places to carry out a hit and run.

She focused the omniculars on the apparition point, the numbers 11:50 flashed on a corner of the lens. Ten minutes to noon, Nathaniel and Dawn should arrive any moment. True to her thoughts, a whirl of clothes materialised in the form of Nathaniel and Dawn. The former disguised under glamour charms was dressed in a bomber jacket and cargo pants, the latter wearing – Anya did a double take – a bathrobe. Well… it was not that bad, she had seen worse a few minutes ago, a wizard who mistook a clown costume for actual muggle clothes took the cake, his antics with one of the ministry staff was a laugh to say the least.

"Crow, this is Nathaniel," a voice came from the ear studs she was wearing. "We just arrived at the apparition point, anything to watch out for?"

"Nothing at the moment. If I were to wager, Mr. Dawn is a little too paranoid and he is just giving us free money."

"Noted. We'll be moving then, keep your eyes sharp."

She placed down her omniculars and picked up her rifle, with a sigh she went to work, it was going to be long day. The pair moved uneventfully through the camping site before entering the stadium itself. There were none of the all too familiar blue coils of a portkey lying in wait to ferry off Dawn to his death, there were no sinister vibrations of dark magic to be seen, neither were there translucent cords of a disillusionment charm hiding a potential murderer.

_Scratch the last one._

Anya adjusted her sights to the shimmer of translucent cords amidst the site, there was disillusionment charms in play. In her crosshairs, all she sighted was a female house-elf – or was it male? She could hardly tell the difference. The hidden person was there, not that she could see the person, she only saw the charm's magic. The person was either under a disillusionment charm or a cloak using it, why there was a house-elf escorting the person was beyond her.

"Alright, we're in the stadium," Nathaniel stated.

"Roger. I see a disillusionment charm in play, might want to be careful. There is a house-elf following it, you can use that as reference."

"Is it coming near us?"

"No, it's moving to the Top Box gate, VIP seating."

"That means it's not a threat to us. Too far away, probably another person like our Mr. Dawn here who doesn't want bad attention to himself."

Anya kept silent and shifted uneasily, a house-elf following someone under disillusionment charms who was entering the VIP seating was too suspicious for her liking. As though sensing her concern, Nathaniel spoke up once again.

"Relax, Crow. It's nothing dangerous, I'm on the site and we are already in the stadium. You can relax until the match is over, read one of your textbooks, or even listen in on the commentary."

Finally, Anya relented and grabbed her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3_ and began reading, ignoring the riotous waves of cheering erupting from the stadium. Hours went by before she noticed a barrage of green fireworks lighting up the stadium as another roar of voices burst from the stadium. The match was over and Ireland won, evident from the green fireworks.

"I take it that the match the just ended?" Anya asked. "Victor Krum is a let-down if the colour of the fireworks are anything to go by."

"Yes it did, and I'm amazed that you actually follow Quidditch. Dimitri must be rubbing off on you. Next thing I know, you'll be lamenting that this year's FIFA finals had to end in penalties," Nathaniel replied. "Krum wasn't a let-down though, the rest of Bulgarian team was. Frankly, next to the Irish, any team will be. We're heading down now, Dawn is going to meet up with some of his friends. He probably plans on getting piss drunk with them. I checked on his friends, they have a tent directly South of your location, about four hundred meters. Big red tent was the description, check the area first before we reach there."

Anya complied and found nothing noteworthy. Once again, she herself adjusting her sights on a swirl of translucent cords and a house-elf. They were too suspicious, she was going to have to keep an eye on them. The swirl ended up disappearing into a tent, she sighed. If only she could see through solid objects as well, that would have been good. Resigned, she settled down on keeping a watch over Nathaniel and Dawn as the latter partied away. The hidden person's tent was far away from them, he should not be a threat.

Time passed before something happened that opened the adrenaline floodgates in Anya, one green flash somewhere in the camping grounds, followed by the warm glow of fire. Her relaxed body suddenly jerked up and she found her fingers flying for the trigger of her rifle. Swinging the rifle over to the source to distress, she peered through the scope to find the cause of the green flash.

Through the lens, she saw a group of masked and hooded figures marching down the camp site, waving their wands without care. The fire behind them flared up into a full blown inferno, stray spells were flying all over. At the centre of the group, a few figures were levitated and contorted. What concerned her more was the few stray figures running around, separate from the pack. They were too close to Nathaniel and Dawn for comfort and she could not possible keep track of all of them.

"Nathaniel, danger. Seems like a riot is going on. Masked and hooded figures. Stray spells all over the place. Main group of them is northeast of you, about a hundred meters. Lone wolves running around the whole place."

"Got it, I'll get Dawn and the two of us will disapparate out. Once the two of us are clear, you can head on out. Until then, cover us."

"Too late on that first part, Nathaniel," said Anya as she saw strands burst from behind a tent, washing over the area in reddish lines. She recognised it as an Anti-Disapparation Jinx, it was cast by either one of the masked men preventing his victims from escaping or an Auror trying to catch the former. "Anti-Disapparation Jinx is up, just grab him and run, its range isn't far. Twenty meters at most."

"Understood."

"Shoot to kill?"

"Shoot to kill."

In the scope, she saw Nathaniel exit the tent, pulling a terrified Dawn with him. Shield charms flew out of Nathaniel's wand as he pushed Dawn down, keeping him out from any line of fire. One rogue hex splashed against his shield as the pair began to hurry away from the source of flashing lights and loud bangs. Around the corner of a tent, a pair of terrified witches ran past the pair, Anya saw one of the lone masked man chasing the witches, he would run into Nathaniel and Dawn within seconds. Relaxing herself, she released her breath and squeezed the trigger, blood sprayed from the person's neck and the body dropped flat on the ground.

"Thanks for that."

"No problem."

From another corner, another masked man approached the pair. This time, Nathaniel was faster than Anya, she did not even rest her finger on the trigger before a swift flick of his wand banished the masked man into a tent, the entire tent collapsing on as the masked man flew into it. Nathaniel gave a rough pull and dragged Dawn on.

"Crow, I don't like this. All these tents provide too much corners for the both of us and you can't get a good line of sight. How far until we exit the jinx?"

"Few more meters and you're good," Anya replied, watching the pair rush on before they finally left the whirlpool of reddish lines. "Now. You're in the clear."

Nathaniel needed no more instructions and he immediately spun on the spot, bringing Dawn and him away. It was then that Anya heard a fresh wave of shrieks and screams coming, she turned and saw from another corner of the camping grounds a large cloud, glittering and green. A skull with a serpent coming out through the mouth. The Dark Mark.

Clearly, she had already overstayed. She stowed away her rifle, omniculars and books, a wave of her wand erased the runic circle she was in. Using a portkey to escape was most tempting, but an unauthorised portkey was illegal in Britain. It would not be surprising if the horde of fleeing bystanders were already creating unauthorised portkeys to escape en masse, maybe hers could slip through Britain's National Ward Grid undetected amongst the mass of desperate and illegal portkeys. However, she was not going take chances, not when Nathaniel left her with a ready form of escape, one she was all too willing to use.

Anya did a final check for any forgotten belongings before slinging her knapsack over and drawing out her wand and sidearm, a Makarov pistol engraved with her standard firearm runes. Silencing runes, stability runes, accuracy runes, cooling runes and acceleration runes. She began running away from the scene, down the hill and trees before reaching her getaway.

It was a Honda ATC250R, a three-wheeled all-terrain vehicle, parked on a dirt track under a disillusionment charm. It was an old model but that made it cheap to rent, not that it mattered when the Muggle in charge of renting it out can be Confunded; the real reason Nathaniel provided it instead of a broom. She mounted the vehicle and cast a disillusionment charm on herself, it was weak – her rune circle versions where much better – but it would do the job. Turing the ignition, she revved up the engine and sped away, kicking up dust behind her. Wind swept against her face and she cracked a wide smile, speeding down the streets of Arkhangelsk on Aleks' motorbike had always been one of her favourite pastimes and this feeling was close enough. With a final glace at the Dark Mark behind, she drove off into the night, memories of night time rides with Dimitri, avoiding an irate Aleks who did not want children touching his motorbike and stealing cans of pickled fruits off the local grocery with Wei Jen filled her mind.

**XXXXX**

The mood in the tent was not a happy one, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione all sat around a table, discussing the recent events. After Hermione's rant at the treatment of house-elves, the conversation soon turned to the potential identities of the masked men. Nearly everyone was adamant that the masked men had been Death Eaters who managed to dodge an Azkaban sentence, though there was hardly any solid evidence for it. A distraction came in the form of Percy entering the tent, sporting a bruised cheek.

"Father, I just came back with Auror Dawlish and a few enforcers, we found a dead body belonging to one of those masked man."

Shocked silence enveloped the tent, Fred's jaw dropping into a large 'O' while Ginny dropped the mug of warm tea she was drinking.

"Impossible," Mr Weasley said weakly. "None of us could get near any of them without them disapparating at the last moment."

"Who was it?" George demanded. "Come on Perce, out with it."

"It was Lewis Rosier," said Percy. "Brother of the late Death Eater Evan Rosier, he was trialled for being a Death Eater too, got off by saying his brother placed him under the Imperius curse."

"I knew it," Ron burst out. "Of course those nutters were all Death Eaters, who else could it be?"

"Yeah! Come on, Dad, the ministry can now have proof that the lot of them are the old Death Eaters," Fred added, having recovered from his initial shock. "Just have the Aurors arrest and interrogate them."

"Fred, it's not that simple," Mr Weasley replied wearily. "Just because one of them was an ex-Death Eater, we can prove that all of them are."

"Correlation does not imply causation," Bill summarised. "However, do we have any idea who killed him and how he died?"

"That's the part that got us stumped," said Percy uncomfortably. "No one was able figure it out. At first, Auror Dawlish reckoned that Rosier got hit with a stray curse from either a desperate bystander who knew his dark magic or one of their own masked men. Upon further spellwork, Auror Dawlish said that there was not a hint of dark magic on Rosier's body. In fact, there was no any sign of magical damage at all. That was why we were all confused, with the wounds on Rosier, it had to be a powerful curse that done him in, yet there was no dark magic involved."

"What kind of wounds?" Ginny asked, her face paling at the thought of a body mangled by dark magic.

"Simply put, Rosier's neck was not a pretty sight. Had to be a combination of a piercing curse, cutting curse or some curse that dealt internal bodily damage, I don't know to be honest," answered Percy, his face a little green from the memory. "All I know is that it had to be dark magic to render someone's neck to that state. There was this large wound on his left neck and then there these small ruptures on the other side of the wound as though the spell exploded from inside his neck out when it made that large wound, and there was-"

"Alright, Percy. You can stop now," Mr Weasley cut in loudly, his hands covering Ginny's ears.

"Maybe it was some kind of foreign spell that didn't involve dark magic," Hermione theorised weakly. "After all, there were wizards from all over the world here, maybe one of them knew some exotic spell that couldn't be detected?"

"You too Hermione," Mr Weasley sighed. "We should all cut this short and get to bed, it's late and I fear tomorrow is going to be a long day."


	4. Chapter 4 - Hogwarts

Chapter 4 – Hogwarts

Summer came to a halt on the first of September, the schooling year had begun. Anya found herself alone on the platform, the shining red train that was the Hogwarts Express stood in front of her in all its glory. Around her, students and family milled about the platform, saying their final goodbyes. Heaving her trunk on board the train, Anya was inwardly glad that Nathaniel dropped her off early at King's Cross Station, most of the compartments were empty and she got to have her pick.

As she settled herself down, she started on her textbooks right away. If she was going to get her OWLs done, she had to do catching up during her free time. With an Astronomy book in hand she began reading through it in distaste, that subject was practically useless in her opinion. Knowing where all the stars were would only be useful in Divination, which she did not take, and certain branches of Ritual Magic, which she did not bother with. To her, the only star worth knowing was Polaris, the North Star, for the sole sake of navigation in the event she did not have a compass in hand.

One hour into the reading and her brain was straining, she placed down her book and slouched onto her seat, the sharp whistle signified the departure of the Hogwarts Express. Taking out a mirror, she checked her reflection. The scar on her right eye was missing, good. She remembered what Nathaniel said to her as he applied a strong set of glamour charms to hide the scar.

"_Your scar needs to be hidden if you're going to Hogwarts."_

"_Why?"_

"_You were born as Anne Potter, brother to what Britain considers their wizarding hero. When the British Dark Lord Voldemort died at his hands, someone was there to retrieve your brother. It should be safe to assume that you, as his twin sister, would be right next to him when he was retrieved."_

"_Be in the end, I was found abandoned on a bridge," Anya said, catching on to his intentions._

"_Correct. Add that with your wounded eye, we can't be sure if that was Voldemort's work or someone else, but what is certain is that somebody who fetched your brother wanted you dead to a degree. That person didn't kill you on the spot, so I'd guess that that person chickened out or had something else holding him back. What we can be certain is that someone among the group of people who brought your brother to safety wanted you dead. If that group of people is still currently keeping him safe, you will be in danger by being in proximity with him, which you will be because he's attending Hogwarts too."_

"_So you glamour just my eye and not my entire appearance?" Anya asked quizzically, hinting a drop of doubt in Nathaniel's plan._

"_Don't be stupid Crow, changing your entire appearance long-term is too difficult and taxing, and you are going to have to maintain the glamours. Scars are obvious, especially in the magical world. Scars from physical damage can be removed, but scars from curses – such as yours – cannot be removed. Any girl can show up with black hair and green eyes, you haven't been seen in Britain for thirteen years. Add in a distinct cursed scar, however, and you'll be a dead giveaway."_

"_Understood. Well, _Uvidimsya sleduyushchim letom._"_

"Proshchay_," Nathaniel said, patting Anya on the shoulders. "_Ya budu skuchat' po tebe_."_

The sharp tug of the compartment door opening ripped Anya out from her reverie, she hand instinctively went into her jacket and gripped on the handle of her pistol holstered beneath. A look at the person standing the door allowed her to relax slightly.

"There is no need to jump straight for your wand, I was just checking if this compartment was occupied."

At the door was a blonde about Anya's age, she wore smooth robes of silk and had deep blue eyes. She stood with a confidence and poise that signalled a rich upbringing.

"Mind if my younger sister and I join in?" the girl asked. "Everywhere else is pretty full?"

Anya nodded stiffly, gesturing for her to take seat. The girl cracked a small smile and carried her trunk in with her.

"Thank you very much," she said, before turning to the door. "Tori, you can come in now."

A head of dark brown poked into view, glancing around the compartment. She too carried in her trunk and settled herself next to her older sister. Her eyes were fixed on Anya, and with an innocent child-like look of curiosity on her face, "I haven't seen you before, you seem to be in my sister's year."

"Transfer student," Anya replied who finally released her hold on her pistol and instead begun fishing for a textbook to read.

"How come you're already reading the textbooks?" the younger girl asked, eyes widening with even greater curiosity and head tilting her head as though in confusion. "We haven't even started school yet. Also where are you from?"

"Tori, stop prying," the older girl said sharply. "I'm sorry about that, my younger sister is a very curious girl. Name's Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass. This is my younger sister, Astoria."

"A pleasure. Anya Seryy."

"Hey! You never answered my question," Astoria exclaimed with an adorable pout.

Anya glanced at Astoria, looking into her eyes for a brief moment. She noticed that unlike the rest of her face, the little girl's brown eyes were cold and calculating. This girl was fishing for information, and she knew how to make use of her cherubic face to do just that. No wonder Anya felt a gush a nostalgia when she saw Astoria's actions, it reminded her of herself when she was younger. A time when her innocent face held more weight for her team than a sniper rifle.

"In Russia, the syllabus is a little different from here in Britain," Anya answered with a warm simile, her eyes glazed as old memories came back to her.

"_Excuse me… sir?" the little girl meekly whimpered out in Russian, tugging on the sleeves of the man standing outside the walls of an industrial warehouse complex. The man had a cigarette lit between his teeth, the arm which sleeves were tugged on hung limply by his side, the other arm cradled an old, beaten AK-47. The girl didn't seem fazed by it though._

"_What?" the man grunted back in thick Russian. His smoke break just started and already he was disturbed. His annoyed countenance dropped the moment he saw the pitiful face staring at him. Her clothes were a little worn out, but nothing to suggest her being a waif. One of her eyes was covered in a white band of cloth the circled her head, the other bright green eye was wide with tears. She did not seem like a beggar or vagrant at all, more like a local neighbourhood child who wandered too far while playing._

"_Oh… um… sorry girl, what's the problem," the man stumbled, despite holding a gun he was still human. Most of their hearts soften at such a sight._

"_My cat jumped into the window of the building behind there," the girl pointed behind him with a shivering hand. "The window was next to this bright blue door."_

_Bright blue door. The back entrance. Hardly anyone used it, hardly anyone even guarded it, not even the Spooks. They just did some hocus pocus and told them all the back entrance was safe. The man sighed, unsure of what to do. Then again, the back entrance was accessible to anyone who knew the code for the number lock. It was protected by the two Spooks' hocus pocus, they never mentioned the details, but it summed up to the door being the only way in from the back. Apparently, it didn't keep cats out, now the man understood what the ball of fur zooming pass him a few moments ago was._

_The man looked at the girl's shivering frame and vivid green eye, it wouldn't do to leave this poor lass out in the late evening. He had a lot of spare time and the back entrance room had all the doors closed, the cat couldn't enter the compound from that room. It either had to stay there or leave. Furthermore, there was nothing at all in the room, just trash, practically nobody goes there despite knowing the code for the number lock._

"_Alright girl," the man sighed. "I'll open the door for you. If the cat's still in there, good for you. If not, it went away and that's just bad luck. I give you a minute to search, understood?"_

"_Understood. If cat in take out, if cat not in, it left the place. One minute to search," the girl echoed, nodding with the semblance of an obedient daughter who knew to follow instructions. The man clearly saw the semblance, his shoulders relaxing as he saw her response._

"_Good girl, come along now."_

_Leading the girl to the door, he was about to turn in the number combination before the girl piped up in childish ignorance._

_"Sir, how do you open the door without any keys?"_

_"Oh, this door uses a number lock," the man explained, shifting aside to let the girl see him enter the code and unlock the door. "You just turn the wheels here to the right number and the door unlocks."_

_Her eyes lit up in fascination. The man smiled. He had a little sister much like the girl too. The girl wondered inside and at the centre sat a tabby cat. Squealing in delight, the girl picked the cat up and began to thank the man_

_"It's nothing," grinned the man goofily. "You better run off now, the sun is going to set soon."_

_The girl did just that, dashing around the corner with the cat in arm, not too slow, not too fast. She ran to a side street and around a corner. There, a lanky Russian stood waiting for her._

"_You got it?" he asked expectantly, this time in English. A wave of his wand returned the tabby cat back into a brick._

"_Code is seven-three-three-four. I don't know where their Spook is though."_

"_Their Spook was at the east side building balcony. He doesn't patrol, just maintains the wards. You did good Anya."_

"_No problem, Aleks. Can we go home now?"_

"Well, well. Why did you come to Hogwarts then?" Astoria's question shook Anya out of her memories.

"Family," Anya did not mind humouring her, there was some joy in seeing a 'junior' trying to do the same thing.

"What do you by 'family'? Did your family move here to stay in Britain? Were you forced to leave Russia? Father said that the state of that country has been in tatters since the 'Uprising'."

The rest of the train ride proceeded in a similar fashion. Anya stuck to reading her textbooks while Astoria kept peppering her with questions without – to Anya's respect – sounding annoying at all. The elder Greengrass kept mostly to herself before excusing herself to find her friends.

Soon she found herself following the first-years at the Hogsmeade Station, under a torrential downpour. She drew her wand and cast an Impervius charm on herself, silently thanking the Indian Monsoons for teaching her an early lesson. The sound of a half-giant booming out, "Firs'-years this way!" drew her attention and she soon joined the herd to a fleet of small wooden boats. The first-years ogled at her like some exotic specimen, clearly a fourteen year old joining them was a source of confusion. Settling into one of the boats, she joined the first years in their pilgrimage across the Great Lake, weathering the raging rain. Around the corner, she finally caught sight of Hogwarts itself. The sight was breathtaking, with its spires and towers all laid atop one another in a fashion that screamed magic.

The boats soon came to a stop and as the group left their boats, shaking their heads and wringing their clothes to remove as much rainwater as possible. Hagrid led the bunch to an oak door and knocked on it, which promptly swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired witch. Her aged face had its share of wrinkles and she surveyed the group with a stern face.

"Firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, shifting aside to pass the limelight to the witch.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Professor McGonagall gave Hagrid a curt nod before facing the first-years. "If the rest of you would kindly follow me."

The first-years nervously began to follow Professor McGonagall, all of them peering curiously at the Entrance Hall, amazed by the sheer grandeur of it. With a sweeping look across the crowd, Professor McGonagall began addressing them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, the start-of-term banquet will begin shortly. Before that, the sorting will begin to determine which house you will spend the rest of your time in Hogwarts at. The houses you are sorted to will be akin to your second family, you will have classes and spend free time with your house and you will sleep in the house dormitories."

"There are four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each with its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of each year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. Hopefully, you will be a boon to whichever house you are sorted to. The sorting will begin shortly, I suggest you all smarten yourself up before the sorting begins."

A few minutes passed by as the first-years all shifted about edgily. Professor McGonagall soon ushered them into the Great Hall where they had the full attention of the rest of the Hogwarts population. In a single file, they lined up in front of the Sorting Hat, which on cue ripped its mouth open and began to sing. Its tune was simple and its voice monotonous, the younger students listened on eagerly while the older ones who had clearly listened to it long enough just lazed about in boredom.

A wave of applause came from everyone as the Sorting Hat finished its song, Professor McGonagall took out a scroll of parchment and unrolled it, announcing the start of the sorting.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

The names progressed on from the 'B's and slowly to the last of the 'W's, coming to a close with 'Whitby, Kevin!". As the last of the first-years finished their sorting, Anya's presence was beginning to be noticed, students whispered among themselves as they speculated her reason for being part of the sorting. Anya managed to pick up snippets of their conversations about where she stood.

"Isn't she a bit too old to be here?"

"She could have come here from home schooling."

"Come off it, me aunt knows all private tutors in Britain and she never heard of a girl that age who was home schooled."

"Maybe she is a first-year who had an accident with an aging potion."

"Adrian, are you a duffer or are you just too hungry to think?"

Finally, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and the mild buzzing ceased.

"In addition to the first-years, we have a transfer student from Russia who will be joining us this year. She will be joining the fourth-years and I expect each and every single one of you to welcome her to Hogwarts with open arms. Let us show to her the hospitality of Hogwarts and Britain. Seryy, Anya!"

Anya took her cue, stepping forward to sit on the three-legged stool. The Sorting Hat was lowered onto her and she waited.

"Anya Seryy," a little voice mused in her ear. "I thought you were gone from this world, which is what everyone else thought. I must say, your brother would be most pleased to hear of your true identity, Miss Potter."

"Hmm…" the voice hummed. "You share your brother's courage, but you are much more wary. Much more cautious. You have a sense of cunning and deceit within you too."

"It's my upbringing I suppose," Anya shrugged. "Do you sort by nature or nurture? Both? I expect each to yield different results. I suppose which house I enter will be evidence on which factor you weigh more."

"I have a right mind to place you in Ravenclaw just for that. However, that would not do. You would do much better in SLYTHERIN!"

The last word echoed throughout the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat and gestured Anya to the table of green. The Slytherin regarded her with equal parts suspicion and curiosity. A sixth-year with a Prefect badge pinned on his robes got up and shook her hand. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Welcome to Slytherin. I hope you enjoy your time here."

"I do hope so too." Anya replied politely. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar brunette waving at her and gesturing the empty spot next to her. Anya complied, taking a seat next to the younger Greengrass.

"Seryy. So good to see you, I knew you would end up Slytherin. Since we're in the same house, we should get familiar with other, you can call me Astoria. Mind if I call you Anya?"

In front of the students, empty dishes began to fill up with a plethora of food and the students started piling up their plates.

"I don't mind," Anya responded, helping herself with some lamb chops. "What made you think that I would end up in Slytherin?"

"It's simple, really. A number of Slytherins here may be just dim-witted brutes like Crabbe and Goyle over here," Astoria nodded over to a pair of overweight fourth-years stuffing ravenously their faces with roast beef. "But there are also the true Slytherins," tilting her head up in joyous pride as she said so, "like me and my sister who are here on grounds of being sly and cunning. You are like us, I can tell when I see your eyes. It can be cold and calculating, that's the eyes I saw on the train and right then I knew you had to be a Slytherin."

"This that why you started asking me question after question?" Anya asked wryly.

"It is good to get to know your future housemates after all," Astoria nodded chirpily as she ate. "And you seemed to be very interesting. Shame we aren't in the same year."

"So are you actually from Russia?" a third-year beside them chimed in.

"Spent my whole life there," said Anya with a nod.

"Merlin, that must be terrible," a seventh-year girl down the table exclaimed. "My mom and her tea friends all talked about how the Russian Ministry is in a torn down state and completely corrupted. 'Such a state of corruption is completely unbefitting a country that used to hold Pureblood houses in high esteem,' she said."

"Burke, that's pretty rich coming from your mother considering how she bribed an officer from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures over an illegally owned fire crab," said a sixth-year boy beside her with a frown. "Besides, it's not like the Russian Ministry spontaneously imploded itself into its current state. It practically had the first wizarding war of the twentieth century, it broke and reformed and then broke again. It's kind of expected actually."

"Well, how was it in Russia?" the third-year asked.

"Not that bad," Anya mused. "Life there is really down to enjoying the little things in life."

"Quidditch! How about that World Cup finals lads?" someone at the table proclaimed, resulting in a ripple of appreciative chuckles.

"So you're the transfer student in our year," a smooth voice came from Anya's back. She turned to find a fellow fourth-year with platinum blonde hair. "It seems like the purebloods from Russia aren't so bad, you are pureblood aren't you? You wouldn't be in Slytherin otherwise. Name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"A pleasure."

"Are you a pureblood?" Malfoy pressed, arching an eyebrow questioningly.

"I thought Slytherin valued ambition and resourcefulness over blood status? Though I assure you that you have nothing to fear over my blood status."

Malfoy's stance relaxed a little, but his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.

There was a silent agreement as everyone moved on to their own separate conversations. Soon, the scraps of dinner left on the dishes were magically cleared away, making space for desert. When desert found its way in the stomachs of the satisfied students, Albus Dumbledore got onto his feet and a wave of silence washed over the students, all attention on the headmaster.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling at the mass of students. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."

The usual notices on banned objects and reminders on school rules came to a climax as Dumbledore's speech was cut off by the doors of the Great Hall bursting open. A scarred and grizzled man limped his way into the Great Hall, his wooden leg made clunking noises as he walked. What shocked the students the most was his magical blue eye whirling about in its socket. His eccentricity simply left the Great Hall in a stupefied silence. The stranger paid no heed to the attention and strode up to Dumbledore, shaking the headmaster's hand and exchanging a few words.

Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down and pulled a plate of sausages towards him, inspecting the sausages closely with both eyes and nose before deeming them safe to consume. All the while, his blue eye kept darting around, looking at every corner of the Great Hall.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody."

There was a few scattered clapping from Dumbledore and Hagrid, but the rest of the Great Hall was still stuck in its stunned silence.

"Who on earth is he?" Anya asked.

"That's Mad-Eye Moody, a retired Auror," Astoria answered. "He used to catch a lot of Dark Wizards back in his days, went crazy with paranoia at some point of time."

Anya bit her tongue in discomfort, this might turn out a little awkward, considering how she usually spent her time on the other side of the law. She rarely had to deal with the Russian Aurors, but she knew that handling them was not difficult when prepared, concealed explosives or sniper fire usually did the trick. However, looking at Mad-Eye Moody, she had better stay clear from him, she did not have anything illegal by definition of the wizarding laws but extreme paranoia was hard to combat.

What was strange was the mud-brown strands radiating off him. It seemed so familiar, like she had seen it before. From the way it moved, the source had to be a potion, the telltale fume-like twisting was a clear indication. She had seen enough brewing cauldrons to recognise the magic radiating off potions, but recognising the signatures of specific potions – or rather, anything in general – took time and practice, none that she gave to potions. There were too many different varieties to remember.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" came a cry from the Gryffindor table and the Great Hall erupted in laughter.

"I am _not_ joking, Mr Weasley, though now you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar-"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er – but maybe this is not the time… no… Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

The Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition held between the magical schools of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. It takes place once every five years, with each school taking turns to host. It was cancelled a long time ago due to the high death toll, but recently the Ministry has decided it is time for an attempt to rekindle the spirit of international friendships. As such, the tournament will commence when the impartial judge for the Triwizard Cup decides the participants during Halloween. Our esteemed guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will arrived earlier in October. All of this with a grand prize of a thousand galleons, the participants will also be exempted from their exams due to the nature of the Tournament."

Anya began to muse on the possibility of joining. Sure a thousand galleons was a tidy sum for a student's competition, but exemption from exams was a much better prize. It would give her much more breathing room to catch up on her studies. Despite the assumption at her Transfiguration, Runes and Muggle Studies were in the bag, she still had to working on the theory portion of her OWLs. With concepts such as essay structures and answer schemes that was completely new to her, it was better to be safe than sorry. On top of that, it was reckless to rely solely on these three subjects.

"Despite the various safety measures implemented, both the schools and the Ministry has decided that to add in an age restriction for our main contenders, with only those of age being able to forward their names. As the tasks involved will still be dangerous, this is a necessary precaution."

There was an instant uproar as soon as that statement left Dumbledore's lips, especially those who were only a few months away from reaching the criteria. Shouts and banging of tables echoed throughout the Great Hall. Dumbledore simply rose his hands to call for silence.

"As disappointing as it sounds," Dumbledore gently continued. "Do note that I mentioned an age restriction for our _main contenders_. Yes, the Ministry understands that by adding an age restriction, we have effectively stamped out an opportunity for the potential bright, young and capable minds whose sole shortcoming is their age. Therefore, a new feature has been added to this year's Triwizard Tournament: The Junior Champion."

This time, the shouts of outrage swung around to become shouts of jubilation and Dumbledore was forced to raise a hand for silence once more.

"For our younger students, do note that your role will be at times, vastly different for the actual Champions. You are less likely to be directly participating in the tasks, you will instead act as an assistant to the actual Champions, this will add on to fostering bonds through teamwork. There will be much more safety rules added for the Junior Champions and they are allowed to receive assistance from an authorised party, mainly the teachers. The thousand galleon prize does not split between the two Champions of the winning schools, you will both receive a thousand galleon each. Now that the big announcement is finish it is time for you to go to your common rooms, rest is important if one is to absorb the knowledge and wisdom taught in the classrooms. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

As Dumbledore finished his last sentence, the prefects of each house took charge, marshalling away the first-years to their common rooms. Being new to Hogwarts, Anya followed the crowd of first-years. Standing up, her gaze swept over the Great Hall and she found herself locking eyes with a boy across the hall who bore the same emerald eyes, dressed in black school robes with red Gryffindor trimmings. She shook herself off and proceeded to follow the first-years, but the boy never took his sight off her.

**XXXXX**

When the first-years came through the Great Hall, Harry merely regarded them with slight interest. Aside from noting the younger Creevey sibling covered in Hagrid's coat, he spent more of his attention chatting with his friends. However, when the last of the first-years trickled in, someone caught his attention.

His breath hitched in his throat and his pupils dilated in shock. At the back of the first-years stood a girl much higher than the rest of the new students, she clearly had to be older. His memory may have been a little fuzzy, but she was the spitting image of the girl she saw on the Mirror of Erised, albeit older. She had the same flowing raven hair, lithe figure and emerald eyes he had seen. However, the scar that should have been on her eye as Sirius said was missing. The attention he had on his conversation took a hard turn and locked itself firmly on the girl.

_There is no way._

_There is no way._

At some point his jaw had dropped, but he could not bring himself to care. Not when the girl at the doors of the Great Hall looked just like what Anne Potter should. The rational part of Harry's mind reminded him that she could not possibly be alive. After all, Hagrid had confirmed Anne's passing based on the words of Dumbledore himself. However, another part of his mind was hoping, pleading almost, that this pipe dream of his was true.

When the rest of the first-years finished their sorting and it was just the girl left, the buzzing of speculations had been in motion for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and begun introducing the girl. Harry strained her ear to listen, clinging on to every word.

Anya Seryy. Transfer student from Russia. This had to be the reason why Anne never showed up in his first year, she was off in Russia, hopefully with an adoptive family much better than the Dursleys. She walked forward to the Sorting Hat and Harry already had his fingers crossed before the Sorting Hat even sat on her head.

_Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor._

After a few moments, the hat cried out, "SLYTHERIN!" and Harry felt his shoulders sag as he slumped on his seat. Anya took off the hat and move away from him to the table of green. For the rest of the meal, even through Dumbledore's start-of-year speech, he found his gut clenching and unclenching, a sense of numbness soaking through his bones. The joyful prospect of being able to be a Junior Champion which excited so many of those near him did not lift his mood up whatsoever.

As the prefects began leading the first-years to their common rooms, he saw the girl stand up and for a moment the two locked eyes. Staring into her eyes, Harry felt something click, as though the girl knew who she was meeting eyes with. The rest of his trip to the Gryffindor Tower became a blur as his mind struggled to make sense of what he saw. When he reached the common room, he found himself dragged to a corner of the room.

"Harry, stop. This is going to become an unhealthy obsession if you keep it up," said a familiar bushy haired friend, her arms crossed with a scowl on her face. "You were completely off the whole time at the Great Hall."

"Was it that obvious?" Harry mumbled, shuffling his feet nervously. "I mean do you even know why I-"

"Of course I do Harry," Hermione interrupted sternly, she held her gaze for a few moments before dropping her angry look into one of sympathy. "Harry, I understand that when Sirius told you about Anne you were immediately in grief. And I read that the first stage of grief is denial, but you shouldn't be going that far. I know you think, hope rather, that Ms Seryy is for some reason Anne. But you need to face facts, Sirius said it, Hagrid said it, she is not here anymore."

"You don't know that Hermione. Back in first-year, when I saw the Mirror of Erised, Seryy was exactly who I saw next to me, between my parents," Harry exclaimed. "And when she stood and looked at me, there was this... this... connection."

"Connection?" Hermione asked sceptically. "Didn't Sirius say something about her having her eye cut up by a dark curse, where's the scar if that girl is Anne?"

"She could have healed it," Harry replied hotly.

"Harry, I read up on cursed scars when you mentioned yours was hurting. And you can't remove scars left by wounds resulting from dark magic. You can heal the injury sure, but you can never remove the scars. That's probably why Professor Moody looks like that after a lifetime as an Auror, the curses used by all the dark wizards left a permanent mark on him. In that case, if Seryy is Anne, she should have been wearing a scar down her eye."

Hermione said all this quickly before finally letting out a sigh, "Harry, please. Let it go. It's not healthy."

Harry dropped his head low in defeat as his arms hung limply by his side. "I j-just hoped that m-maybe, just maybe-"

"I know, I understand," Hermione patted his shoulders comfortingly before turning to leave. "Just get some sleep alright? Classes start tomorrow and you shouldn't be late."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Lessons Unlike Arkhangelsk. Reminders of Arkhangelsk.

Breakfast had just begun, students were piling into the Great Hall. Hermione was equally disgruntled and worried, her source of concern sat right across her. Clearly, her words yesterday had yet to break into her friend's head. Harry had a blank look on his face, staring intently at the entrance of the Great Hall. So focused was he that he failed to notice that he was spreading jam on his wrist rather than his toast.

When the green-eyed girl finally made it to the Great Hall, his eyes homed in on her and stayed there. Honestly, Hermione was not sure whether Harry or Seryy deserved more sympathy. One lost in grief while the other was going to have to deal with the former sooner or later.

"Harry, wake up," Hermione snapped her fingers. "Are you planning on eating your toast or your arm?"

"Huh," Harry mumbled, shaking out of his reverie. "Merlin, what a mess."

"Harry, get a grip," Hermione sighed, drawing out her wand and cleaning up the mess on Harry's wrist. "We've been through this. It's. Not. Her."

"You don't know that."

"Who's not who and don't know what," Ron said, halfway through his second helping of bacon.

"The new student in our year, Anya Seryy. For some reason, Harry is convinced that she happens to be his sister solely on the basis that she _looks like her_."

"Wha-" the ginger sputtered. "Come on Harry, it can't be. She's dead, died years ago and- ow! Hermione, what the hell?"

"Show some sensitivity Ron," Hermione admonished. "You don't talk about the dead like that in front of their family."

"Fine, fine," Ron said hastily. "Besides, house sorting runs in family doesn't it? My entire family is Gryffindor and the Malfoy gits have always been in Slytherin. If she was a Potter wouldn't she be in Gryffindor with us?"

"Some break the trend," Harry grumbled. "Look at Sirius, isn't House Black all Slytherin? Works the other way around don't you think."

Ron stopped to think while Hermione stood up and made for the doors, dragging the two along. "Come on, let's go. First lesson is Transfiguration and we do not want to be late for Professor McGonagall's class."

Both boys made groans of protest as they followed the girl out to their classroom, but not before Harry stole another glace at the Slytherin table.

"And Harry, I don't want to see you jumping up on her at the corridors, you hear me?"

Her reply was another groan, before she finally had the two boys shoved out of the Great Hall.

**XXXXX**

_"Anya!" a voice hollered from downstairs. "Get down here, bring your wand too."_

_A giggle erupted beside her and the girl next to her snatched the remote control from her hand. "Well, what are you waiting for? Aleks called you, get going, it's been a while since I got the TV to myself."_

_"Ass," muttered Anya, draining the last of her Invigoration Draught. She tossed the empty vial at the girl. "Tanya, hide this. If Aleks sees it, he'll go ballistic."_

_"At you, not at me," the girl chirped in a singsong tone as she started at the television, but pocketing the vial nonetheless. "Not just Aleksandr, but any of the adults really."_

_A walk down the stairs and to one of the 'prep' room revealed an irate Aleks, drumming his fingers on a table. Beside him was a young boy a year older than Anya, Kiel. He had the stereotypical blonde hair, blue eyed German look. He probably was German, given that Nathaniel's uncle found him in the German city which became his namesake. How Nathaniel's uncle knew their ages was always a wonder to Anya. He could always gauge the exact age of everyone he saw, though not precise to the birthday. In fact, that old man had always been an enigma, no one but Nathaniel knew his name. Everyone just called him Grey, or Seryy as it is called in Russian._

_"Took your time," Aleks growled, gesturing to a stack of equipment on the table. "Nathaniel is conducting magic training, Dimitri and Wei Jen are already there."_

_"Where's the training?" Anya asked_

_Aleks promptly gave her a local map, a compass and a slip of paper containing the coordinates. "Remember, everything on the table goes along with the both of you."_

_Years ago, she would have sighed and grumbled. Now, there was just a grim nod as she followed Kiel, picking up the items on the table. First was a lightweight ballistic vest, which they slipped over their shirts. Over that went the various layers of winter clothing. A bulky bag of supplies – not that they needed them – went over their shoulders. Finally, they both picked up an AK-47 each, doing a standard inspection before slapping on a magazine._

_"Remember, don't get caught," Aleks reminded them. "I got sick of Oblivating the Muggles whenever Tanya gets caught."_

_"Maybe we should have dragged her along," Kiel said softly with a fond smile. "Would be nice to have some pleasant company."_

_"Also," Aleks continued, "no Featherweight Charms, I'm looking at you Anya, we don't need a creepy eye to figure out what spells you cast to cheat. And... since the roads get more empty further up North, Vlad may or may not have hexed portions of the roads there. I wouldn't rely on following roads if I were the two of you."_

_The pair drew their wands and cast Disillusionment Charms and Notice-Me-Not Charms over themselves. A quick check on each other's wandwork and the two left the building._

_"Can you see the hexes if they show up?" Kiel asked._

_"Not yet," Anya shook her head. "I only finished up on properly seeing, knowing, identifying and deciphering ward systems. Nathaniel haven't gotten me to start on booby traps yet."_

_"Fine, we do this the normal way."_

_A Russian January was always cold despite being noon and the pair were glad that it was not snowing today. Disillusionment Charms would not stop the snow from silhouetting their figures. They weaved through the alleyways and into the woods up North, avoiding Muggles and possible wizards. _

_They never ever used their rifles in these trips. Rather, it was a way to force them to learn evasion and concealment, should their charms fail, they had to rely on avoiding the general public. Lest the Muggle police would come bearing down on the children who have firearms slung over them. It also served as an excellent form of dead weight._

_Three miles in, and Anya could acutely feel the gnawing on her legs as both cold and fatigue clawed on skin, muscle and bone. She had done this before, albeit with increasing distance each time, but it never got easier. Ragged breaths wheezed out in foggy condensation as she trudged through the thick blanket of snow._

Breathe in. Breathe out. Left leg. Right leg.

Next checkpoint is just another hundred meters before adjusting compass bearing to zero-five-zero to reach the destination.

Come on, pain is good. It says that you are still alive.

_A misstep on a patch of sleet and she slipped, she would have fell but a strong arm held her steady. Suddenly, her rifle was yanked out of her already unsteady grip. Pushing her messy locks of hair from her eyes, she glanced right and saw Kiel slinging her rifle over his shoulder. There was a brief moment of hesitation before both of them nodded at each other and fought on against the harsh cold._

_It took another hour of trekking through the woods before the pair ended up at an abandoned warehouse near the Northern Dvina River. Nathaniel stood in front of Dimitri and Wei Jen, wand in hand. Before them laid several dead chickens, a dead pig and a dead monkey. Anya and Kiel cancelled their concealment charms, dropped their bags and ended up on their knees, panting from exhaustion._

_"Kiel, Anya. _Dobro pozhalovat'_," said Nathaniel with a curt nod, checking his watch. "Good timing, _tak derzhat'_."_

_"For today's lesson, we will be learning the concealment and disposal of corpses. Transfiguration will be extensively used. Now to begin, we start with Fayette's Applied Principles of Transfiguration on Animal Anatomy-"_

"-these will serve as the primary basis for many of our animal-based transfigurations for this and the coming years. For those of you who wish to progress to my NEWT classes, do remember these principles well for they can and will be applied to human transfiguration studied in NEWTs. Now, turn to page fifty-four of your copies of _Intermediate Transfiguration_ and-"

The scratching of quill on parchment joined the voice of Professor McGonagall as the Transfiguration lesson went in full swing. Anya had her textbook propped up against her bag as she lazily jotted down notes. Having been through this before, she would rather spend her time catching up on other subjects. Despite requiring only three OWLs, ignoring other subjects will still end in detentions or remedial classes, both she hoped to avoid.

"Today, we will start with learning the transformation of animals into inanimate objects of a different volume," said Professor McGonagall, conjuring cages of guinea pigs in front of the students. "Start with transfiguring the guinea pigs provided into teacups. Do note that unlike your previous years, a difference in volume between entities transfigured will result in a higher demand in concentration."

Soon, the class was filled with shouts of incantation and wand movement. A swish and a flick of her wand and Anya had her guinea pig turn into a teacup.

"Ten points to Slytherin Ms Seryy."

"How did you do that?" asked Tracey Davis – a fellow Slytherin forth-year beside her – irritably.

Anya looked at her curiously and at the envious Ravenclaws behind shooting her furtive glances.

"Practice," Anya replied. "Never mind that, show me how you do it."

Davis obliged, only to have Anya grab her arm halfway through.

"Your wand movement is off, try locking your wrist for the first part and relaxing for the second part."

Davis narrowed her eyes in scepticism, but followed through nonetheless. To her delight, the spell got through, though the teacup was still covered in a layer of grey fur.

"Remind me that, for all its shortcomings, never to underestimate Russia's Wizarding education," Blaise Zabini grinned. He sat behind the pair of girls, both he and Theodore Nott had an incomplete but satisfactory teacup in front of them, credit to Anya's advice and their eavesdropping skills.

"They taught you this in Russia?" Davis inquired. "Don't they have to be a little one-on-one to pick out specific wand movement errors?"

"Yes," replied Anya, allowing a slight fond smile to form on her lips. The class was starting to be a drag to her, she missed her lessons back at Arkhangelsk. They were tough, but she always found them refreshing. There was something about learning in and from the open world, be it on the streets or in the woods, and learning with a tightly knit group. Here the stuffy confines of the classroom and the all too large – in her opinion – student to teacher ratio was starting to get on her nerves.

Class soon came to an end and the mass of Slytherins and Ravenclaws trickled out of class. The next lesson was Potions. Anya grimaced, potions was not going to be enjoyable. The lessons were passable despite hardly having any practice in Potions, but the pain in those lessons were mostly due to the Gryffindors sharing the same period. Or rather, a certain Gryffindor sharing the same period.

During the end start-of-term banquet, she had swept through the Great Hall, looking for her supposed brother. Even though they never met, shared no joy, grief or anger and were only siblings because of blood and nothing else, there was always a deep yearning of finding out who you were. Her brothers and sisters in Arkhangelsk had already become her family that she was proud of, but when presented with a link to the past of who she was supposed to be, her curiosity refused to skip that opportunity.

It was not difficult to spot him. Throughout the whole banquet, she could feel a persistent presence bearing down on her, the subtle sensation of being watched. She simply sought out the source and found Harry Potter staring at her from the Gryffindor table. For a brief moment she taught that Harry already knew who she was, which presented an issue of keeping her identity hidden. However, one glance at the forlorn yet hopeful look on her brother's face and she came to the conclusion that Harry merely suspected her of being his long-lost sister. She was safe for now, but a persistent person who acted on suspicions was a huge annoyance, one she will have to bear whenever she meets Harry. How he knew of her was another question, she suspected her parents' friends had filled him in.

In this case, Potions. She was very grateful that the only lessons she would sharing with Harry was Potions and Defence, but to her it was two too many. To top it off, there were both back-to-back, with only lunch acting as a respite.

Taking a deep breath, she set off with her fellow Slytherins into the dungeons. The Gryffindors had already taken their seats by the time she reached the class, she had easily figured out early on how biased her Head-of-House, Professor Snape, can be when it comes to punctuality. One step was as far as she got before she felt that familiar sensation of being watched once again. She took a cursory glance at the Gryffindors and managed to pick up Harry staring at her.

With an emotionless mask, she settled down with the rest of the Slytherins and the lesson commenced. Luckily, the presence of Gryffindors in Snape's class means that the attention of their Potions Master was mostly focused on harassing them, the Slytherins simply needed to only sit back and enjoy the show. The highlight of said show involved a Neville Longbottom melting his cauldron in what can only be attributed to a series of glaring errors in his potion making. Snape simply vanished the mess, deducted twenty points from Gryffindor for 'clumsiness' and gave the poor Gryffindor a detention.

As Snape made a rare round through the Slytherin portion of the dungeons, Anya found her own cauldron being inspected by Snape. Being a newly transferred student, Anya was expecting more scrutiny from the various teachers and she was right. It was at times annoying when there was a teacher constantly breathing down her neck, especially for Herbology when the Hufflepuff nature in Professor Sprout demanded extra care and attention for a student new to the Hogwarts curriculum. Snape peered down at her cauldron's contents for a few seconds before moving on without a comment.

_Passable, I guess._

The ringing of the bell was a relief to what Anya considered as a mild agony. She and the rest of the class began packing up their bags, looking forward to lunch. Making her way down the corridor, someone called out to her.

"Seryy. Wait up!"

She turned around to find herself facing Harry, his usual retinue missing. His jaw was firmly locked, but his eyes were screaming out his intentions. This was the huge annoyance Anya had hope to come into as little contact as possible. It took a few moments before Harry's jaw finally came loose.

"Hi, nice to meet you," Harry stammered. "I just wanted to say 'Welcome to Hogwarts'… and Britain too I guess. I'm Harry Potter."

He held out his hand and Anya took it, giving a polite shake before letting go.

"So I've heard," Anya said smoothly. "Anya Seryy, but you already know that. Will that be all? I need to go for lunch."

"Yes… no, I mean…" Harry struggled to find his words, trying to not make his intention blatantly obvious should his suspicions end up wrong. "You look very familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Not unless you've been to Russia, no I don't think so."

"You've never been to Britain before transferring here?"

"As far as I can recall, no."

"Not even as a kid, maybe when you were a baby?"

Anya internally sighed, he was getting nearer and nearer to being mentally painful.

"No," she said firmly. "And I'm pretty sure that as a baby, I will have no recollection whatsoever and neither will you. Additionally, I'm also sure that seeing me as a baby and comparing it to my current appearance should not be triggering any sense of 'looking familiar'."

"Oh, yeah," Harry finished lamely before awkwardly gesturing to her. "How about we both make way to the Great Hall, yeah?"

Finding no polite way out and not wanting to be rude, Anya settled for a curt nod and letting her brother lead the way. She kept her distance though, not wanting to let Harry get comfortable in her presence lest he start seeking her out more.

"So… how has it been in Hogwarts so far?"

"Fine."

"Do you have any problems transitioning here from Russia?"

"Curriculum is a little different and there are many new faces. Other than that, not much problem."

"Do you realise we kind of look alike, the same hair and eye colour, facial features too actually."

_Smooth going._

"Apparently so."

"Do you have any siblings back there in Russia?"

_Even smoother._

"Yes."

"Yes?" Harry said in surprised, snapping his head to stare at Anya, who was meeting his stare in challenge.

"Yes, I have. Is there any problem with that?"

"No… nothing really, just that I never had siblings," Harry mumbled in a fluster. "My family back home is pretty lame too, live with my aunt and uncle. How is your family back in Russia?"

"Rowdy, exciting and something I'm proud of."

"Why'd you come over here to Hogwarts anyway?"

This stumped Anya. How does one get off citing family reasons to a direct family member who suspects you of being family? Anya was quite sure using that line of reasoning was going to cause Harry to jump to many uncomfortably accurate conclusions with the suspicions he was acting under. When they neared the Great Hall, rescue came in the form of Hermione and Astoria.

"Harry!"

"Anya!"

Both girls rushed forward, before stopping and looking at one other suspiciously. Then, they looked at the two green-eyed fourth-years with equal suspicion.

"What are the two of you doing together?" Astoria asked, always keen on having speaking priority.

"Potter here offered to walk me to the Great Hall in order to ease me into life at Hogwarts."

"Merlin, I am so sorry if he spoke or acted inappropriately," Hermione burst out, speaking frantically. "He didn't disturb you in any way right?"

If there was ever an opportunity to reign in Harry, this was one, and Anya was not going to hesitate.

"Well, he did ask me question after question along the lines of looking alike and my family back in Russia."

Hermione looked aghast as she promptly dragged Harry off into the Great Hall furiously whispering to him, "What did I tell you notto do? What did I tell you not to do?"

"Lunch?" Astoria said innocently.

"Lunch," Anya agreed, following the second-year girl to the Slytherin table. She had only just taken a seat when she was approached by an irate Malfoy.

"Seryy, what were you doing? Hanging around with the prat Potter."

"Maybe our dear Russian friend here has a crush on the Golden Gryffindor Boy," teased Parkinson with a false giggle.

"Relax, Malfoy," Anya replied calmly. "Potter simply wanted to walk me to the Great Hall and there was no point in being unnecessarily rude to him."

"Unnecessarily rude?" Malfoy replied hotly. "He is an arrogant airhead and we Slytherins should not be associating with him, kick him off the next time he comes over."

"Unless," Malfoy narrowed his eyes, "you're a Muggle lover like him too. I've seen you walking around with all those Muggle items, jotting down notes with- what's that thing? A fen?"

"Pen," Anya corrected lazily. "You try taking down notes with ink and quill as a left-hander. When you smudge your notes enough times, you find using a ballpoint pen a lot more practical."

Her insistent usage of various Muggle items has been the source of many arguments with her housemates, mainly hardliners such as Malfoy. It started off with taking down notes with pen and paper instead of quill and parchment – although homework still had to be submitted in the later form. Then it progressed to wearing her digital watch, which hid the runic script on her wrist. The watch surprisingly still worked within the thick magical environment of Hogwarts, though she was forced to recalibrate it every day as its precision was greatly hampered. The icing on the cake had been her use of a torchlight one time in her dorms during midnight to get to the bathroom, which ended in Parkinson screaming, "What do you even have a wand for!?"

At least they did not see the Muggle items Anya usually had hidden in her robes. Her pistol, Swiss knife and switchblade. She could only imagine the aneurysm Malfoy would have if he ever saw them, and the epileptic fit he would have should he figure out what they were for.

However, she forwent her hidden items for today, and planned to do so for the days she would have her Defence classes. She had seen the magical eye Moody possessed and planned to take the safe route. She stilled carried them on other days, understanding the difference between what one can see and what one can notice, if she kept away from him and into the crowds, she was safe. She felt a little naked without the safety of her the weapons she used more than her wand, but it was better than risking herself getting caught by an Auror. She was not sure of the knowledge British Aurors had on firearms and concealed Muggle weapons, but she was not taking chances.

The only risk left was the runic scripts etched on her body. Granted, the scripts were small and inconspicuous, but there was always a chance that the ex-Auror might start asking questions.

"Whatever," Malfoy snorted, turning to leave. "Just make sure you keep your sense of propriety when around us."

"What an ass," snickered Zabini from across the table. "Start eating already Seryy, or the good seats for Defence will be all taken up."

Indeed, with the stories told by students from other years and houses, Moody's classes have been painted as an eye-opener, prompting students who have yet to the class eager to attend. This is case, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were wolfing down their lunch at top seat to get priority seating in the classroom.

"I suspect certain levels of exaggeration concerning Defence classes," Anya replied evenly, in a short few days at Hogwarts she had managed to build a sense of camaraderie with the dark-skinned Slytherin. Their shared foreign background – Zabini had emigrated from Italy to Britain at the age of eight – providing a base for developing rapport. "What's the deal with Malfoy anyway, Pureblood houses – or what's left of them – back in Russia aren't that Muggle-phobic. Heck, you aren't like that even with your utter disdain for 'filthy blood' and your childhood friendship with him."

"That's Russia for you Seryy. And unlike Malfoy, the lack of a father figure in my life has blessed me with the clarity to understand the difference between Muggles and their inventions. One should be kept out of our society while the other is something to be made used of. It's similar to goblins and gold, you can hate the short buggers but you can't help loving the Galleons they mint."

Anya chuckled at that as she ate. Despite the outward frostiness, Zabini can be amiable once you get past the initial reclusiveness.

"And in the case of Muggles," Zabini continued, "they may be second-class humans but their facial products are exceptionally brilliant at doing their job."

Anya's chuckles turned into a full-blown snigger. She realised as she got acquainted with Zabini that he was very vain about his appearance and it amused her to no end."

"They are?" Astoria chimed in.

"Their moisturisers last way longer than any wizarding products, I'll give them that," Zabini said finishing the last scraps of his food. "Come on Seryy, let's go hunt Nott down. I want to smoke a fag and I left mine in the dorms. Unless you have yours with you?"

Fags had in fact been the cause for Anya to get along with Zabini – and Nott. The second day in Hogwarts had her bump into the two in a deserted corridor, Nott had been the one smoking while Zabini had been asking him to spare a stick. Living and working with Dimitri back home had ingrained Anya with the habit of bringing along a spare packet of cigarettes, a nicotine-free Dimitri was a grumpy Dimitri. She never used the packet she carried though, they were solely for Dimitri should he ever run out and she refused to deal with a grumpy Dimitri. He had her try one out back when she was nine, it ended poorly with fits of coughing.

Seeing Zabini's plight, she simply spared a stick from her packet and conversation between the three struck up right then and there. Anya had been surprised that the two Purebloods were delving into smoking cigarettes, which was firmly labelled a Muggle habit by Pureblood houses. Apparently, the prim and proper Pureblood source of tobacco was from snuffboxes. Conversation initially started with said surprise and she found out that having being mostly left on their own, Zabini with no father and a mother who frequented tea parties and Nott with no mother and a father who spent more time on 'Death Eater' business, the two had wandered into Muggle Britain multiple times, picking up smoking from there.

The two still retained the conservative Pureblood views on Muggles but developed a grudging respect and tolerance for their inventions with each time they strayed into the Muggle world. Their parents had frequently sent them over to the Malfoys to bond with the other Pureblood children, but their lack of parents to look up to and changing views on Muggles created a rift between them and most of the other children, a rift that only grew with time. Zabini thanked Anya for the cigarette and there was an unspoken agreement that she was allowed to join the two loners of Slytherin.

"Nope, didn't bring any contrabands with me. Not when the next class has an ex-Auror teaching it," Anya shrugged. "Nott shouldn't be too difficult to find, find the older Greengrass and you'll find Nott. Astoria, where's your sister?"

"She left for Defence with Nott already," the second-year replied, still eating her lunch.

"Bloody damn shame," Zabini muttered, picking up his bag. "Well, no choice then, off to class."

The two made their way over to Defence class and when they entered, Anya was glad to see that Harry's attention was on the class and not on her. The class heard rather than saw Moody enter the classroom, the clunking of his wooden leg giving him away.

"You can put those way, those books, we wouldn't be needing them."

The buzz of excitement rose even higher upon those words, except for Malfoy who shrunk further back into the corner of the class, clearly traumatised by the ferret incident that took place days ago. Moody took no heed, simply drawing out a class register to take the attendance. Anya was a little excited too, she couldn't deny that. It was not every day one got to learn magical combat straight from an ex-Auror, especially when said ex-Auror got to the topic of highly illegal curses within a minute into class.

"So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose into the air and Moody picked out a ginger Gryffindor, Ron Weasley.

"Er, my dad told me about one… is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody took out a glass jar containing three large, black spiders. He fished one out and pointed his wand at it, muttering "_Imperio_."

The spider swung into action, performing cartwheels and dances on Moody's palm, much to the laughter of the whole class except from Moody himself and Anya.

"Think it's funny, do you?" Moody growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost immediately and Anya grimaced slightly, past memories of a Chinese human trafficking ring coming to her mind as Moody continued his lesson. The hazy, blank look on a gaunt, ragged Chinese boy her age that would later grow up to be a person she trusted her life with multiple times.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody sharp voice brought her back to the present.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

This time Neville's hand came up. Anya was surprised, her short contact with him in Potions had her pegging him as a docile boy filled with innocence.

"Yes?"

"There's one – the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville, in a small but distinct voice.

"Your name's Longbottom?" Moody asked, checking the class register.

Neville nodded nervously but Moody made no comments, fishing out the second spider instead.

"The Cruciatus Curse, needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," said Moody, enlarging the spider with quick spell before pointing his wand firmly on the spider. "_Crucio._"

At once, the spider jerked up, rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. Anya was glad Nathaniel spent a great deal of time slowly desensitising her and others to torture and death. Slowly from television shows, to an actual dead body. To the process of a quick, clean death, to a slow death. An even slower death. Messier. Slower. Finally, torture. They each found their own way to cope. This display would not have held a candle to that night in Vladivostok.

The shrill voice of a panicked Hermione caused Moody to cut the spell, shrinking the spider back and placing it into the jar.

"Pain, you don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… that one was very popular once, too."

"Right… anyone know any others?"

This time, it was Hermione who got the honour to answer.

"Yes?"

"_Avada Kedavra_," she whispered.

"Ah. Yes, the last and the worst. _Avada Kedavra_… the Killing Curse."

The rest of Moody's demonstration was a blur to Anya as her eyes glazed over, lost once more in memories. This time she was in the waning days of 1989, Romania. Gunfire and green jets of light building up a cacophony and showcase of brutal violence, death in a vain attempt to preserve what was already dying.

_Stare. Stare in the eyes. Stare in the eyes of the dead until they can no longer haunt you. Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life. Remember and recall so you can always know it. Know it well so you do not fear it. Humans will fear what they do not know._

Her personal mantra kept repeating in her mind over and over as she successfully fought to breathe calmly, turning her attention back to the lesson.

"Not nice. Not pleasant. And there's no counter-curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

All attention in the class now turned on Harry Potter, including Anya. Her brother was a curiosity, she cannot deny that, to take a Killing Curse only to survive and somehow vanquish Voldemort, nobody has ever done that. Nathaniel's uncle, Grey, would have paid a fortune to have Harry in his hands for a good long run of experimentation.

Curiosity soon turned to herself, why did she live? She came out from the ordeal with only a missing eyes, a problem that had been fixed. Why was her right eye, and not her life, that was the target of Voldemort? Killing her off would have been much simpler. There probably was another factor at hand, one she was pretty sure of being stupidly simple, just that she was unable to pick it out.

Not that it mattered anymore, Voldemort was dead and the essay on curses that Moody had given the class was a far greater threat to her wellbeing. The class packed up their bags and left the room and instantly descended into a waved of awestruck conversations, the first lesson from Moody had certainly cemented an impression on them.

Days went by as Anya slowly found her pace in Hogwarts. True to her predication, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies were a breeze for her, with Professor Babbling and Professor Burbage saying that she was a joy to teach. Professor McGonagall even started to show her favour despite the green trimmings on her school robe. Charms, Potions and Herbology had been alright, she neither flunked nor excelled at those. History of Magic and Astronomy had been long given up as a lost cause.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a solid so-so, she knew a few Defence spells such as the Knockback Jinx and Stunning Spell, but her comparative lack of contact and study with dark creature and dark magic meant that she was woefully unfamiliar with the counter-curses required in the coursework. At least for Herbology and Potions, she came across enough illegal shipments to familiarise herself with the various plants, ingredients and potions.

A surprise came when Professor Moody announced that he would be putting the class under the Imperius Curse to demonstrate its power and effect, much to the protest of a few students. In the end, the fear of Moody outweighed the fear of the Imperius Curse and each students took their turn being placed under the curse.

Each student had their turn being ridiculed in front of the class, starting from the Gryffindors to the Slytherins. Nearly all Gryffindors succumbed to the curse, with Harry being the sole exception. His first attempt at throwing off the curse resulted in a pair of fractured kneecaps as his body couldn't decide between following the curse and following Harry, causing him to smash into a desk and toppling onto the floor knee-first. Moody had him try again and again until he could successfully throw off the curse completely, summing up to four tries.

Finally, Moody turned to the Slytherins. The elated and nervous mood between the two houses swung polar opposite as he did so.

"Alright, now it's time for the Slytherins," Moody growled, his magical eye darting about each Death Eater children. "Hopefully some of your parents taught you how to fight the curse instead of how to cast it."

One by one, the Slytherin had their own turn with the Imperius Curse. Gryffindor laughter climaxed at Malfoy's turn, who performed an admirable impression of a ferret, Moody clearly had his wicked sense of humour.

"Seryy, your turn," Moody barked, beckoning forth the girl.

Anya walked forward, once again painfully aware of the green eyes staring at her. She took a deep breath, preparing to fight against the reflex that Nathaniel had conditioned her with should she ever come in contact with the Imperius Curse or Legilimency. If she followed through, it would undoubtedly make a scene she would rather avoid. As Moody levelled the wand at her, she released her breath, clenching her right hand in an attempt to keep it from moving.

"_Imperio_."

The moment she heard that word and felt the empty, blissful sensation take over, her attempt immediately became in vain. Her reflex clawed through her resistance and her arm seemed to move on its own, bringing her right hand up to her mouth. In one swift lunging motion she bit hard on her hand, drawing blood from the bite as teeth sank into flesh. The pain and adrenaline combined with her push of protesting willpower threw the curse off instantly, it was a cheap trick to combat mind magic and Nathaniel had ruthlessly drilled her on it.

She collapsed on all fours from the exertion and before she realised it, her wand was in her left hand, pointing straight at Moody. Her breath surged in and out jerkily through gritted teeth and she was feeling light-headed from the raging blood flow, the adrenaline had already clouded her mind.

Anya reckoned that she looked like a mess, poised like a cornered animal with blood on her hand and mouth. Judging from the shocked expression on her classmates, she was probably right. She withdrew her wand and staggered up to her feet, trying in put on an air of nonchalance, which did nothing to soothe the stunned silence.

"What the hell was that!?" Dean Thomas finally cried from the seats.

"That, Thomas, was an impressive display," Moody growled in approval. "Three seconds to throw the curse off and you had your wand out for defence in an instant, ten points to Slytherin Seryy. I would have given you more if you hadn't resorted to biting yourself. Now look here class, Seryy here has got the same mental willpower as Potter, and you lot should be learning to draw your wands as quick as her."

Anya walked back to the seat, with all eyes on her. A few taps of her wand had her blood cleaned up and the bite healed.

"Seryy, what in Merlin's name was that?" Zabini asked, his eyes wide in awe.

"That is something I'd rather not talk about."

**XXXXX**

"Seryy, your turn."

Harry's head swivelled over to the girl he suspected of being Anne. He watched as Moody placed her under the Imperius Curse. To his absolute shock, she did the last thing he would have expected.

The girl bit her own hand.

His jaw dropped wide open and he heard Hermione gasp beside him. Anya looked positively feral with the tense posture and blood on her mouth. As she recovered, Moody gave her ten points and a rare compliment. However, all Harry picked up was another shred of hope from Moody's words.

_Seryy here has got the same mental willpower as Potter._

There it was, another link. Another connection he so desperately sought out between him and Anya.

"How on Earth did she do that," Hermione voiced out as they left the classroom. "She just bites her own hand and throws off the curse. In all the books I've read, none mentioned biting your own hand to combat the Imperius Curse."

"Worked though dinnit?" Ron said dazedly, still awestruck by Anya's performance. "You can't learn everything from books."

"Well, as Professor Moody said," Harry said apprehensively. "She had the same mental willpower as me. So you know... She may-"

Hermione's eyes widen as she realised where Harry was going with the conversation.

"Oh no you don't," she cut in sharply. "That does not prove that Seryy is Anne Potter. What kind of a leap in logic is that?"

"Come on Hermione," Harry fought back hotly. "She looks like the girl in the Mirror of Erised, we share a good deal of facial features and we share the same mental willpower. Ron, what do you think?"

"I dunno," Ron said uncertainly. "You may have a point, but it could be coincidence."

"You think Veritaserum would let us know?" Harry theorised. "Or maybe a DNA test, is there a magical alternative to that?"

"Coincidence," Hermione pressed exasperatedly. "That's all there is too it."

However, Harry had a plan. One he was sure of, a guaranteed foolproof solution.


	6. Chapter 6 - Confrontation

**AN: Sorry for a delay in my posting and a heads-up for a future delay as well. Past week has been very busy and this week will be very busy. Real life preparations for a big event on-going.**

* * *

Chapter 6 – Confrontation

"Well, it's a Sunday. What are your plans for the day?" Astoria asked, spreading butter on her toast.

"No plans, pass the salt," Anya replied, to which Astoria obliged. "I'll probably end up in the library studying."

"How about we go for a walk around the Hogwarts grounds," Astoria suggested brightly. "You never wandered out of the castle aside from Herbology, and that's just a fraction of the outdoors Hogwarts has to offer. It's quite relaxing to just take a stroll."

"I don't see why not," Anya shrugged, not denying the relaxing effects of a mindless stroll, having done the same back in the streets of Arkhangelsk.

Soon the two girls found themselves strolling near Hagrid's hut, Astoria recounting her elder sister's run-in with the infamous Blast-Ended Skrewts. The tale ended with a few minutes of tentative silence until Anya broke it.

"Alright Astoria, how about you get straight to the objective of this entire jaunt," Anya said casually. "You have a burning question that you're just dying to ask about without any outside interference."

"How?" Astoria stopped dead in her tracks, a slight crack in her upbeat facade as her eyes widened in shock at getting called out.

"The little things, there's that slight hesitation before every question you ask. As though you wanted to ask something else, but never found the opening to do so. So what did you want ask me?"

"What's the weapon you keep in your robes that you favour over your wand," Astoria asked with equal shrewdness and curiosity, grinning in expectation.

Anya was completed shocked, stumped and surprised. This was definitely not on the list of things she expected. Moody calling her out for her pistol, sure. Astoria, no way. However, all she showed the younger girl was a graceful arch of her eyebrow.

"What!? How!?" Astoria demanded, her grin completely wiped clean off her face. "You can call me out over the slightest things. But when I do so, you don't even stumble. I can't even get a good read on you, and that just doesn't happen, I can even figure out Daphne at times but you..."

"Let's just chalk it up to experience," Anya smiled gently, shifting slightly to deny the girl vision of her wand holster as her hand surreptitiously wrapped her wand. "Now how about you tell me how you figured it out?"

"It's simple really," Astoria said proudly. "The first time I saw you on the Hogwarts Express, your right hand jumped straight into your jacket when my sister barged in. At first, I – like my sister – assumed it was your wand you were reaching for, but then I realised you were left-handed based on your preference for it when taking textbooks from your trunk. Which means that what you immediately went for back then was a weapon other than your wand as you would have used your left hand had it been your wand. Judging by how instinctive your movements were, you were more comfortable with it than your wand. Since you feel more comfortable with it than your wand, I can assume you keep it with you at all times, even now."

Anya could feel her gentle smile fighting to tug itself wider. The second-year in front of her was observant, very observant, and she had the sharp wit to correctly work out what she saw. Anya could not help respecting Astoria, she picked out her concealed weapon within the first day of meeting each other, this girl was not lying when she said she was a 'true Slytherin' back at the start-of-term banquet.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Ms Greengrass," Anya jokingly said, nodding her head in confirmation and further tightening her grip on her wand.

"Well, well, what is it?" Astoria burst out, her countenance switching from shrewdness to excitement in a heartbeat, eyes lighting up in a happy twinkle. "Is it some kind of special magical focus? Something simple like a knife? Something from Russia?"

Anya stared hard at Astoria for a solid minute, regarding the girl's expression, posture and every single possible detail. The younger Slytherin's excitement had only started to fade before Anya relaxed the grip on her wand. At the least the some of the girl's childlike innocence was genuine, and Anya did not peg her as one to spill secrets.

"If I show you, not one word of it will reach anyone else's ears, understood?"

"Crystal clear."

Anya looked around her surrounding ensure there was no one else around, refraining from shutting her left eye as she did so, there was no point giving Astoria more secrets. Once she was sure of their isolation, she simply drew out her pistol from a concealed holster within her robes and showed it to Astoria.

Whatever Astoria had been expecting, this was not it.

"What is that?" Astoria inquired in wonderment.

"_Pistolet Makarova_," Anya answered. "It is a firearm, a common type of Muggle weapon."

"Muggle weapon?" Astoria repeated, doubt and a hint of disgust creeping in her voice. "I thought Muggles just used their fists or maybe swords and bow. What in Merlin's name is a firearm?"

"Swords and bow?" Anya laughed in disbelief. "That was centuries ago, at least say they use muskets and I can still forgive you. You ought to take Muggle Studies as an elective for next year."

Astoria pouted at that, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"A firearm, or a gun, is-"

"Oh! A gun," Astoria exclaimed in realisation. "I saw it mentioned in the Daily Prophet when Sirius Black escaped last year. The Muggles were told that he was armed with a gun, 'a metal wand Muggles use to duel'. That's what a gun is right? How do Muggles even use a wand? And metal? Aren't they less magically sensitive than wood?"

"Simple, because a gun is not a wand of any kind, it doesn't use magic."

"Then how is it dangerous if it doesn't use magic, it doesn't look dangerous at all."

"If wizards here in Britain actually knew how dangerous and widespread these are in the Muggle world, I'm pretty sure the hard-line Purebloods of the Wizengamot can rally more support for their anti-Muggle bills."

"Are they really that dangerous that you would choose a Muggle weapon over a wand," Astoria said in disbelief, sticking her nose up in the air. "I mean, sure, Zabini said some Muggle inventions are better than their wizard counterparts, but for weaponry? There's no way wizards are inferior in that department."

Anya spoke no words, she simply took action. She levelled her pistol against a nearby tree and emptied the clip in rapid succession. Aiming at the base of the branches on the tree, the bullet ripped through a branch each. The spin from the bullets violently severing the branches whole from the tree. Eight soft thumps of her pistol. Eight branches dropped on the ground, their fall almost synchronised.

Astoria simply stared in shock, her mouth silently jabbering. She had seen curses that could produce flashier results, but not at the discreetness and speed this Muggle weapon - gun - was able to create. There was only a little bit of sound, no bright jets of light, it would be hardly noticeable to any opponent. The 'spell' or whatever it was, seemed to instantly hit its target the moment the weapon came into action, there was no dodging this unlike some curses. And rate at which it delivered its effect was what shocked Astoria the most. Four seconds to sever eight branches at fifty feet, even skilled duellists struggled to cast spells accurately at that rate from such a distance.

Sure, there were curses that could do a better job, but none so subtly swift. She had to admit, Zabini had a point on Muggles and their inventions. You can look at them with disdain, that was what she was taught from cradle, but you had better respect what they can come up with. She now understood why Anya reflexively favoured this over her wand when threatened.

"Oh..." Astoria mumbled.

"Oh indeed," Anya loaded in a fresh magazine before stowing it back into her robes. Granted, her body, pistol and bullets had been magically enhanced, but it was a good way to teach Purebloods the capabilities of Muggles. "Don't underestimate the Muggles by comparing them to us wizards, it's like comparing apples and oranges."

"But these Muggle guns can't compare with high powered curses like the Blasting Curse," Astoria pressed.

"Amongst all the weapons Muggles use these days," Anya responded smoothly. "This pistol would probably be the first-year cutting curse of Muggle weaponry if we compare Muggle weaponry to curses."

"What!?" Astoria yelped. "Then what will be the Blasting Curse of Muggle weapons?"

"Very, very, very big explosion." Anya answered simply. "Would probably level the whole of Hogwarts if not for the wards."

"Muggles are that powerful?"

"But they can't mend a broken shoe without a specialist and a set of tools. Apples and oranges, Astoria."

"Uh... Anya?" Astoria said shyly.

"Yes?"

"Do you think... you can let me have a go at using the gun?"

"Another time, Astoria," Anya smiled. "Come on let's go back to the castle, lunch ought to be starting soon."

**XXXXX**

Harry had a plan and he felt like the time was right. The sun was shining, the birds were tweeting. Anyone would be in a good enough mood to be dragged off into a deserted corridor for a potentially awkward type of questioning. Or so he hoped.

Lunch was just over and good food probably contributed to good mood as well, Ron was a solid evidence to that statement. Harry had cleared up the rest of his homework in order to escape Hermione's enforced study regimentation and he was now starting his hunt for Anya. To his anger, he found Anya at the entrance of the Great Hall, with a wand pointed at her. Owner of said wand was Malfoy, who was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He was examining a book in his hand.

"What rubbish is this Seryy?" mocked Malfoy. "A Tale of Two Cities by - who's this? Charles Dickens? Muggle trinkets and now Muggle literature, who taught you would sink so low."

A small crowd had started to form at this point.

"You see here Seryy," Malfoy said snidely. "It's about time you break the bad habit of associating yourself with Muggles. It's bad for a charming lady like you and it's bad for the Slytherin image."

"Lay off her Malfoy!" Harry said loudly from the sidelines, drawing his wand and pointing at Malfoy.

"What?" Malfoy spat with a sneer. "Fallen head over heels for Seryy, scarhead?"

"You want me curse you that badly Malfoy?" Harry raised his wand higher.

Anya merely stood idly, unperturbed by the ongoing confrontation.

"Why are you just standing there Seryy? Too scared?" Crabbe demanded, irked by the girl's lack of reaction.

Anya simply shrugged with a wide grin, showing that she was neither scared nor concerned with the ongoing scene. Honestly, she was just stalling for a teacher or even Filch to pass by.

Apparently, Crabbe was having none of it. Too used to having his victims cower in fear, the calm demeanour of the girl goaded him into action, he swung his meaty fist straight towards Anya.

Harry immediately shifted his aim to the bulky Slytherin, but Anya was faster. Twisting her body and placing her hands on the oncoming arm, she shifted into Crabbe's centre of gravity and leveraged on his forward momentum. With one fluid motion, she brought the walking lard over her shoulder and onto the floor.

The small crowd exploded into gasps and a few brave cheers from several young Gryffindors. Without missing a beat, she spun around and delivered a swift jab into Goyle's diaphragm, who was moving forward for a punch of his own. The hit left him crumpling onto the floor, gasping for breath.

Straightening herself up, Anya strolled over to Malfoy, ignoring the shaking wand pointed at him and extended an open arm expectantly. Malfoy complied, returning Anya her novel, she took it and left without a word.

"Hold on," Malfoy stammered. "You're not going to strike me?"

"Why would I? Despite drawing your wand, you had absolutely zero intention of harm unlike the other two. If getting attacked is what you desire, ask Potter there, I'm sure he will happily oblige."

_And also because Nathaniel and Grey told me not to harm you._

Harry paused for moment before running after Anya, ignoring the dumbfounded blonde.

"Seryy, wait up," he called out, catching up to her side. It was now or never.

"Why was Malfoy picking on you?"

"Muggle novel," she flashed the book to Harry before stowing it.

"You read Dickens?" Harry asked incredulously, recalling the abridged editions from his primary school days.

Anya simply nodded, keeping the frost between the two. Harry walked along in silence before carrying out his plan, he hadn't done this since his second year in Hogwarts.

"_Do you understand me_?"

"Are you hissing at me?" Anya stared at the Gryffindor with great curiosity.

"You don't understand Parseltongue?"

"Parseltongue? Why would I understand that?"

"I taught you would," Harry looked away with slight embarrassment, he had been sure that speaking in Parseltongue to draw out a positive response from her would have been a sure method of confirmation. After, all the books he had spent the past week reading up on emphasised the idea of Parseltongue being hereditary. Honestly, that was all he was banking on.

"This may sound a little off," Harry continued on. "But do you mind talking about your parents? I'm a little curious about them, sending you here to Hogwarts for studies."

"I mind," came the girl's cold reply. "And let's leave it at that."

"Do you take your looks after your mother or father?"

"Seriously Potter, what are you aiming for?" Anya stopped and turned to face him. "Are you trying to imply that we're are some kind of long-lost siblings just because we look similar? Because that's pretty daft."

Harry tried to say something but the expression on his face prompted the Slytherin to press on. "No way, that's what you're actually thinking?"

"Well, I did have a sister," Harry retorted hotly, abandoning all pretense. "And she went missing a long time ago, so you know, maybe I thought..."

"Maybe you thought wrongly," Anya said smoothly. "Since when did you have a sister? If you did she's probably dead"

"What makes you think she's dead?"

"In case you have forgotten, Potter, you're famous for being the sole survivor of the Killing Curse. When Voldemort visited your parents home that night, I'm pretty sure anyone in that building would have died given his reputation. No hard feelings, but that fact alone ensures that your _entire_ family probably passed on that night."

"That's not all, I was told Voldemort didn't use the Killing Curse on her, just a curse that cut her right eye."

"A curse from a dark wizard nonetheless," Anya stated. "And a curse that cuts, do you see any magical scars on my face?"

Harry froze. It had been one thing to heard it from Hermione, her bossy manner of speech made it easier for Harry to ignore. However, hearing it from Anya with that blunt tone hit him differently. It hit him hard. Harry started to feel the cracks in his theories as reality slowly seeped in.

"Yeah... sorry about that," Harry mumbled. "I've got to go, just remembered something important."

Harry turned to leave, as soon as he was out of sight he ran, all the way back to his common room and to his empty dorms. He felt so stupid for believing in his pipe dream, and slightly guilty for disturbing the girl. The dam of emotions cracked and he broke down into sobs, realising that his sister was truly gone.

The next few days saw a constantly depressed Harry, the elation of the arrival of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegates was completely lost on him, as was the climatic revelation of the Goblet of Fire.

"Harry you look like a mess," Hermione said worriedly, Harry had filled her and Ron up on his failed venture. Needless to say, she preferred a hopeful, annoying Harry to a downright depressed Harry.

"Oh, you noticed?" Harry retorted, turning back to his breakfast.

"Come on Harry," said Ron as he dug into his second helping. "Just focus on the Goblet and take a gander at the contenders."

Fred and George were on the floor, their beards the cause of laughter in the Great Hall. They had attempted to register as Champions - via names on gold-coloured parchment - rather than Junior Champions - silver parchment instead. The two climbed onto their feet and resigned to dropping in their silver parchments.

"Bugger," George grumbled as he returned to the table. "Could have sworn an Ageing Potion would do the trick."

"Fret not, brother dear - because I am," Fred said as he stroked his beard. "After all, there is the Junior Champion slot. Why didn't you enter young Harry?"

"Just want a peaceful year this time," Harry replied moodily, staring as a Beauxbaton boy placed his name in.

From the Slytherin table, Anya left the crowd of green and headed for the Goblet, dropping her silver parchment into the flames.

"Ok, let's not take said gander at the contenders," Ron said hastily, receiving a glare from Hermione.

"Ms Seryy of the Slytherin?" George observed.

"Can't have a Slytherin as a champion," Fred commented. "Junior or not."

"I dunno brother. Amongst the snakes, she is the only respectable contender."

"Only because she floored Crabbe-"

"And Goyle."

"Too true, you may have a point brother."

"I always do."

With that, the twins were ushered away by Professor McGonagall to the Hospital Wing to sort their beards out. Harry stared after them enviously, wishing he could have had the close bond they shared.

"Alright, it's safe to look again Harry," said Ron, earning a swat from Hermione.

"Harry, if it hurts that bad, you should write to Sirius," Hermione suggested.

"Hermione, just leave it. I'll deal with it sooner or later."

Soon, the day came when the Goblet of Fire would reveal the Champions. Everyone from all three schools were assembled in the Great Hall, the air was filled with an excited buzz that even had Harry on the edge of his seat.

"The Goblet of Fire will require a few more minutes before finalising its choice," Dumbledore announced, standing in front of the Goblet. "The Junior Champions will be revealed first before the Champions. Can the chosen contenders kindly head to the room behind me."

The first silver parchment sprung from the blue flames and Dumbledore caught it.

"The Junior Champion for Beauxbaton is Jean Poitiers."

An explosion of claps came from the French delegates and a merry brown-haired boy was promptly shoved forwards by his cheering friends. Dumbledore gestured the boy to a doorway behind the Great Hall and boy was soon out of sight.

"The Junior Champion for Durmstrang," said Dumbledore as he snatched another piece of silver parchment. "Is Mihail Dulovo."

Another rousing wave of applause erupted from the Great Hall and this time a stocky Bulgarian rose from his seat, disappearing behind the same doorway.

"For the last of the Junior Champions," Dumbledore said dramatically as the last silver parchment shot out. "From Hogwarts, Anya Seryy."

This time, the Slytherin table was the main contributor of the applause. There were a few jeers from the Gryffindor table, but those who had witnessed her takedown of Crabbe and Goyle - especially their victims - clapped hard for her. Anya was stood up as Zabini clapped her on the back, following the previous two into the back room.

"A Slytherin champion?" Ron exclaimed, aghast at the idea. "We can't have that."

Harry was silent, his mood dampened as he heard her name. She had become merely a wicked reminder of the sister he lost.

"Oh shut it Ron," said Hermione. "Would it kill you to show some school spirit, this isn't the Quidditch Cup."

"Besides, she fully capable of being a Triwizard champion. I share Runes class with her and she's a prodigy in Runes, she's even better than me," Hermione grudgingly admitted. "And I heard from Professor McGonagall that she is beyond our year in Transfiguration as well."

"There's someone better at studies than our Hermione?" Fred exclaimed in shock.

"What a scandal," George added.

"What a shame."

"No wonder she got to be Junior Champion," George finished with a hint of jealousy.

"Well, anyone who puts Crabbe and Goyle into a heap on the floor deserves to be a champion," Dean snickered from the side and everyone around laughed appreciatively at the memory, even Neville.

"Aw shut it mate," Seamus Finnigan jested. "You only say that because she's bloody cute and you've got the hots for her."

The laughs got even louder before the Goblet of Fire beginning sputtering blue flames once more and the first golden parchment shot out.

"Finally, the real deal," Ron yelled happily, banging the table in excitement.

"The Beauxbaton Champion is... Fleur Delacour."

The blonde girl stepped forward and left the Great Hall, much to the sad tears of some who were not chosen. Competition for the place of the actual Champion was a lot less warm.

"The Champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum."

He received the loudest applause by far, his surly demeanour did not change and he made his way over.

"And the Champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory."

The Hufflepuff table erupted in crashing waves of applause, never had they ever been in the limelight and they were all too ready to show their house spirit.

Just as the applause died down and Dumbledore moved up to address the crowd, spark shot once again from the Goblet and another golden parchment leapt out. Dumbledore moved and caught it as it fluttered in the air, puzzling everyone around.

"Harry Potter."

The silence was ominous and the tension palpable. Harry could feel all of the whole Great Hall's eyes on him, it was as disconcerting as his second year with the Heir of Slytherin fiasco.

"Harry Potter!"

The voice had grown louder and Harry found himself being forced out of his seat, escorted by Professor McGonagall. He soon found himself in the same room as the champions, all staring at him curiously.

"What is it?" Fleur asked as she saw Harry enter. "Do they want us back in the Hall?"

There was a sound of scurrying feet as the contingent of adults entered the room, Ludo Bagman taking the lead. He grabbed Harry by the arm and ushered him towards the champions.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you, the fourth Triwizard Champion."

The looks on the champions varied from shock to amusement, with Poitiers frowning in bewilderment. "Wait, are you saying that Hogwarts gets to have two Junior Champions?"

"No, not a Junior Champion," Bagman said, waving the golden parchment in front of the French boy. "He's a full-fledged Champion, his name came out in this golden parchment."

_Harry Potter. Triwizard Champion. Hogwarts._

"You see here? If he had been chosen as a Junior Champion, it would have said 'Triwizard Junior Champion' and the parchment would have been silver."

Now it was Fleur who was frowning. "But evidently there has been a mistake, he is too young to be a Champion and compete in the same Tasks as us. He is too young."

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur whirled over to her Headmistress. "This little boy is to compete with us too? As an actual Champion and not one of the Juniors?"

The tall lady spoke up. "Well Dumbly-dorr, what is the meaning of this?"

"I'd rather like to know myself too, Dumbledore." Professor Karkaroff added. "Three Hogwarts Champions? And the underage boy there is to compete in the senior Tasks? I don't remember seeing that in the rules."

"And how is this supposed to work out?" Madame Maxime said. "The Junior Champions are supposed to help a senior counterpart for each of the Tasks, one to each. How will this play out when there are an odd number of total champions. Is one of the Champions supposed to go without help, or is one of the Junior Champions supposed to help two Champions? This is most unjust."

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire as a senior Champion, Harry?"

"No," Harry replied, very aware of everyone watching him closely and the soft noise of disbelief from the Bulgarian Junior Champion.

"Did you ask an older student to put it for you?"

"No."

"Did you even register for the Triwizard Tournament, Junior Champion or Champion?"

"No."

"Ah, but of course he is lying," cried Madame Maxime.

"Mr Crouch… Mr Bagman," said Karkaroff. "You are our – er – most objective judges here. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular."

All eyes flicker to the two Ministry representatives, Mr Bagman looked uneasily at his counterpart, who took the lead, speaking in a curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rulebook from back to front," said a beaming Bagman, as though the matter was finally closed.

Karkaroff was not amused and tried to press for a resubmission of names lest he withdrew Durmstrang from the Tournament. That was when Moody stepped in, binding magical contract and a suspected foul play on Harry's life placed a halt on the argument and Bagman leapt at the opportunity to steer the conversation back to calmer waters.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together in excitement and smiling at everyone in the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?"

"Yes," Mr Crouch said, seeming to come out if a deep reverie. "Instructions, the First Task. The First Task is to test the Champions your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important. The Champions are not permitted to ask for help or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the Tournament. The Champions will face the First Task armed with only their wands. They will receive information about the Second Task when the first is over."

"For the Junior Champions," Mr Crouch turned to the younger students, barring Harry. "This task is to test your innovation and creativity. Although I mentioned that your senior counterparts can only enter the First Task armed with a wand, there is an exception. Junior Champions will be tasked with creating something for their assigned Champions in order to help them out with the First Task. The item you have made will be the only other item the Champions can bring along with their wand for the First Task. What you create will have to be proposed to your assigned teachers who will oversee you in your process of creation. Points will be assigned based on your creations, you may – as Junior Champions – ask your assigned teachers for help, but points may be deducted based on the level of help requested. Furthermore, as part of fostering international cooperation, Junior Champions will rotate themselves in helping each Champion from the three schools for each task. As a result of the recent _hiccup_, both Hogwarts Champions will be lumped as one. Thus Junior Champions who will be assigned to assist Hogwarts will have to help both Mr Diggory and Mr Potter. Since Junior Champions will end up helping every school, this handicapped is hopefully distributed among everyone for sake of fairness."

"The First Task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. Junior Champions, for this First Task, you will each help Champions from your own schools." Mr Crouch finished crisply before turning to Dumbledore. "I think that will be all Dumbledore."

"Indeed Barty, are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry. It is a very busy, very difficult time the moment… I've left young Weatherby in charge… very enthusiastic… a little over-enthusiastic if truth be told."

"You'll come have a drink before you go, at least?"

"Come on Barty, I'm staying," Bagman added brightly. "Things are much more interesting here in Hogwarts than t the Ministry."

"I think not Ludo," said Crouch, with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff – Madame Maxime – a nightcap?"

But the other Headmaster and Headmistress had already left, bringing along their Champions along with them.

"Harry, Cedric, Anya, I suggest all three of you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling gently at the three. "I'm sure Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin will have much to celebrate over."

With that, the three were dismissed from the room, walking down back to the Great Hall together, which was now empty.

"So," said Cedric with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"

"I suppose," said Harry, his head in complete disarray over the events of the past thirty minutes.

"So… tell me… how _did_ you get your name in as a senior Champion?"

"I didn't, I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."

"Ah… ok" said Cedric, though there was doubt behind that voice. "So, Seryy, it will be a pleasure working with you for the First Task."

"Same here," said the girl.

"You believe me don't you, Seryy?" asked Harry, eyeing at the girl. That this rate, anyone believing in him was a plus.

"Yes," the girl nodded. "I believe you, I also believe that you should be saying something along the lines of what Cedric just said. But nonetheless, I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you."

"You believe me?" Harry croaked in disbelief as the three reached the Entrance Hall.

"You're an open book, Potter," said Anya. "And I believe in what I see, namely the expression on your face."

"Well, see you both then," Cedric bade the two fourth-years goodnight as left for the Hufflepuff common rooms. Anya followed suit, leaving Harry behind to figure out the mess he had been dragged into.


	7. Chapter 7 - First Task

Chapter 7 – First Task

Anya made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast and she received many respectful nods and a few cheery greetings from her house table. Since becoming the Junior Champion, her standing in Slytherin had rose by a good few notches. There hadn't been much of a party when she had entered the common room back when she was chosen, just a small standing ovation and a few rounds of firewhisky that the seventh-years had brought in. Snape may favour his own house, but he still enforced discipline and no one wanted to get caught staying up late.

Her standing in the school had risen as well, owing to being a Junior Champion for Hogwarts. Her brother did not enjoy the same fate to say the least. Most had assumed that he cheated his way in from Junior Champion to Champion because he wanted more glory. As a result, he had become the target for most of the school's mockery, culminating in Malfoy's 'POTTER STINKS' badges. Despite unknowingly insulting Anya with the badges – not that she cared, she was no longer a Potter in her books, Malfoy's attitude towards Anya had toned down, probably for being one of the champions.

It was in a Potions lesson that Anya and Harry were sent off the Wand Weighing ceremony, led by an excited Colin Creevey. The two ended up in a fairly small classroom, the rest of the champions were already there, along with Ludo Bagman and – from the looks a lady with a camera man flanking her – the press.

"Ah, there they are! The last of the champions!" cried Bagman as he spotted the two. "In you come, the both of you, it's just a Wand Weighing ceremony. The rest of the judges will be here in a moment."

"Wand Weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.

"Nothing to worry, just a check that your wands are functional. The expert's upstairs with Dumbledore, after that will be a quick photo shoot by Rita Skeeter here for a small piece on the Tournament for the _Daily Prophet_."

Anya watched as Rita Skeeter requested and promptly dragged her brother off for an interview, she was then led by Bagman to a room with the rest of the champions. In the room stood a wizened old man with misty grey eyes, chatting with Dumbledore, Anya presumed that he was the expert Bagman mentioned. It was a while before Dumbledore left the room to fetch a relieved-looking Harry from the clutches of Rita Skeeter.

The old man was introduced as Mr Ollivander, who began the inspection of each wand, from Champions to Junior Champions. Each person had their turn until it was Anya's turn

"Let's see here Ms Seryy," said Ollivander, inspecting her wand. He paused for a moment, a slight frown on his face. "Ah… intriguing, most intriguing. Birch and dragon heartstring, nine inches, all in working order."

A wave of Anya's wand and Ollivander conjured several butterflies, which flew off into the air. He returned her wand back, leaning into her ear as he did so.

"How did you come across this wand Ms Seryy?" a ghost of a whisper reached Anya's ears.

"My one of my old teachers gave it to me. Why?" Anya whispered back. She chanced a glance at the old man, he looked suspicious, confused and curious, but there was no trace of anger.

"I recall very wand I made, as well as every wand my father and those before him had made. The wand you hold on to was made by my father. Incidentally, it belonged in a crate of wands that was stolen back in 1917. Intriguing, is it not?"

"I'm sorry for you and your father's loss. If it is alright, I can pay for it after this ceremony, I prefer not to cause trouble for a wandmaker."

"It's quite alright my dear," Ollivander said, patting her shoulder as she took back her wand. "There's no point paying for the sins of others. In fact, I am pleased that at least one of the wands found its way into good hands."

Ollivander moved back and allowed Anya to join in a quick photo shoot. The process was thankfully quick and the champions were soon dismissed for dinner. During dinner, she found Cedric hanging around the edge of the Slytherin table, clearly waiting for her. She sat down and pleasantly indicated him to join, to which he politely refused.

"Sorry Seryy, I ate already. I just wanted to ask, maybe we should meet up and discuss about tackling the First Task. After all, it's better to do this earlier."

"Sure, why not," Anya shrugged. "Meet me in Professor Snape's office after this."

"After dinner it is."

"What about Potter?" Anya nodded her head towards the Gryffindor table. "I'm supposed to be assisting him too. Want him to join along?"

"Well... Potter and I are supposed to be opponents technically but... I'm sure he has his own plan. He can meet you separately, I'll see you after dinner."

Since the Junior Champions had to have their creations approved by their assigned teachers, which in Hogwarts' case was the student's Head of House, Anya had to spend much of her time in Snape's office. The relations between the two were civil, choosing to spend as little time together as possible. Snape had simply offered her congratulations and stated that she was not to let Slytherin down during the Tournament. Besides that, the two acted like as though it was another Potions lesson, he would simply make an occasional inspection on her activities, deem it satisfactory and move on, not that Anya minded.

Soon, it was after dinner and Anya found Cedric loitering outside Snape's office. The Hufflepuff looked up and glad to see her.

"You came, finally. Hanging outside Professor Snape's office gives me the chills."

"Understandable," Anya chuckled, opening the office door and ushering him in. "Many people react like that to his office. Come on, let's go."

The two entered the office to see a brooding Snape grading Potions essay, his eyes flickered over to the pair and simply went back to grading.

"Do keep your discussions quiet, Ms Seryy and Mr Diggory. Your positions as champions does not give you the privilege of acting as you please."

Both students nodded obediently and made their way over to a corner of Snape's office where – for Triwizard Tournament purposes – Anya had been given to as a workshop of sorts. Tournament officials had placed in various wards for safety should any of the Junior Champions' tinkering and experimenting go wrong. In the corner, there was only a simple table with a few books on top of it. On the centre of the table lay scraps of rough paper filled with scribblings.

"So do you have any plans, Diggory?" Anya asked, arranging this table to a more presentable state.

"Well, not really," said Cedric. "Since they don't tell us what the First Task is, I'm just going to have to play it by ear. But I do have a clue, researching all previous Tournaments, the First Task has always involved-"

"Dangerous magical creatures."

"I'm glad to know my partner does her homework," Cedric smiled. "So do _you_ have any plans?"

"Just a simple one on my part as the Junior Champion."

"Well, what is it?" Cedric eagerly pressed.

Anya shuffled around her notes and chose a few choice pieces, hand them to Cedric. Cedric took the notes and looked through them, a look of confusion on his face.

"I assume these are runes, but since I don't take them as electives, I have no idea what's going on."

"It's a very simple plan," Anya explained. "Since we have no idea what magical creature we are facing, I went with a general tactic that can be applied regardless of which magical creature gets thrown at you."

"And that is?"

"Sensory denial. Looking up on the more dangerous creatures that might be chosen, they are statistically more reliant on senses other sight, such as hearing and smelling. This is a polar opposite of us humans who rely on sights mostly"

"So we cut off their sound and smell," Cedric followed up, catching on to her idea. "This forces them to rely on sight where we will have the advantage, and this will work regardless of whichever creature they use."

"Statistically, the odds are yes," Anya finished up, handing him two ivory tusks covered with runes, one white and the other black. "Do keep in mind these do not affect just the creature you will face, this affects an entire area, so try to keep your sight sharp if you plan on using these."

"Why are there two?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Part two of the plan, sensory overload. The white tusk removes all sound, smell and equalises heat – because some creatures are sensitive to heat – in the area. The black tusk emits sound, smell and heat, it wouldn't likely overload a large creature's senses, but it will probably be a good distraction, especially when combined with the white one to create an even sharper sensory contrast. Activation is just prodding with a wand. The rest is on you to overcome."

"Wow, thanks a lot Seryy," Cedric said with a wide toothy smile. "I didn't even expect this from you, all this with just runes. I expect you made another set for Harry?"

"Yes," Anya nodded, taking back her notes. She had gotten this done early on to get over with it, allowing her more time to catch up on studies. The moment she found out in a book containing the history of Triwizard Tournaments that the First Task involves magical creatures, she already knew what to do. Sensory denial and overload was one of the things Nathaniel had taught her.

_Since you have a unique sensory capability, Anya, creating a complete mass sensory denial over a large area will only benefit you in a fight._

She had spent one week doing the calculations and rough scripts for the runic complex, holed up completely in Snape's office during her free time. Her proposal was submitted to Snape who, for his part, merely aided her in procuring the tusks of a centicore from the Tournament officials. Another day was spent carefully carving out the runes on the tusk until there was an inch of unmarked ivory.

"Once again, thanks a lot," Cedric said. "I guess my plan now is set, huh. Eat a whole lot of carrots from today onwards, use the tusks and play it by ear."

Anya laughed at that, collecting her tusks back, the items will be given during the task itself. Cedric bade her goodbye and left the office. Anya stored her tusks in a warded box provided by the Tournament officials and made to leave as well. As she left, Snape glanced up at her.

"Good work Ms Seryy, if the runes work. I'm sure Professor Babbling will be annoying me to no end about you after she sees your work during the First Task," said Snape before turning back to his grading.

To her surprise, it seemed that her brother was not intent on seeking her out to prepare for the First Task. Ever since the 'hissing' incident, Anya realised that Harry had left her alone. She was surprised that her brother was a Parselmouth. Since it was an inherited trait, Anya took it that Harry dropped his suspicions on her when she did not understand his hissing. However, being somehow entered into the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had yet to make an effort in preparing for the First Task, at least Cedric – who was going to play it by ear – had bothered to read up on what to expect.

Anya realised what Harry had been doing, he had been trying to ignore the problem at hand, hoping that the nightmare would disappear one fine day. She did not appreciate Harry's method with dealing the issue, as she was one to not hide but stare at the problem until all fears go away. However, she couldn't deny getting a little worried for her brother. Fight, flight or freeze, these were the natural responses to danger, and Anya was pretty sure flight or freeze is not the appropriate response for a danger that was going to get you regardless of what you do.

There was hardly any love or bond between the two, but Anya was not fond of having someone who shared the same blood dying. Losing a part of you that you never used would still incur a hollow sense of emptiness. Even without being family, seeing a poor kid suffer like that was plain sad. She was tempted, many times, to just drag Harry out of his mood and give him a solid plan. But it takes two hands to clap and Anya could clearly see that one of the hands was disabled. Furthermore, she was not incentivised to take the first move, how the Champions fared did not really affect her points.

However, Harry did make a move eventually, although Anya found it to be very last minute. It was a day after a Hogsmeade visit that Anya found herself cornered by Harry and Hermione.

"Seryy, mind coming to the library with us?" Harry asked. "It's got to do with the First Task."

Anya nodded in response, following Harry and Hermione to the library. There, she grabbed a nearby chair and took a seat opposite Harry. Hermione had vanished into the phalanx of bookshelves, leaving the two together.

"You took your time to get into action," Anya remarked, looking over where she last saw the bushy-haired girl.

"Sorry about that," Harry said sheepishly. "Had a lot going in my mind, being in this forsaken Tournament and all."

"I've noticed, so what am I here for?"

Answer came in the form of a pile of books thundering down the table between them, landing in a loud 'thump'. Hermione was standing over them, facing Madam Pince and mouthing a silent 'sorry'. Anya glossed over the titles and came to a conclusion.

"Dragons? That's the First Task?"

"Yes, the Champions are going to have to get pass them," Hermione said quickly. "So we need to come up with a course of action, you can help figure out a plan."

"I thought my job was just to provide items to the Champions."

"Well, have you?" Hermione pressed.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Harry echoed in surprise. "And you didn't tell me?"

"You never asked," said Anya, repeating the choice line of a familiar old man.

"And what did you come up with?" Hermione inquired.

Anya took a breath and began the same monologue she had given Cedric, mentioning the runic tusks and the general plan of sensory denial and overload.

"But allowing the dragon to still see isn't foolproof," Hermione said. "How is Harry going to get past a dragon, even with a sensory advantage?"

"That's his job, though I would not recommend a head-on assault," replied Anya, getting up from her seat.

Hermione was about to burst out but Harry spoke up before she could launch herself into a rant.

"You're right, this is my part. Thanks a lot for those rune tusks, Seryy." Harry said gratefully. "But still, any advice?"

"Play by your strengths?" Anya suggested with a shrug before leaving the two to their work. "Best of luck Potter."

**XXXXX**

The roar of the crowd was ear-splitting as the spectators were eager – bloodthirsty almost – for the First Task to begin. Anya, along with the Junior Champions, had just made their way back to the Slytherin stands from the Champions tent, having passed their items to the Champions after the inspection of the Tournament officials.

"Well, what did you come up with, Anya?" Astoria asked from beside her.

"You'll find out soon enough, I'm not going to spoil it."

"Wise choice, Seryy," Zabini said, grinning in anticipation. "I, for one, am fond of surprises."

"Doesn't matter what Seryy comes up with," said a snide Malfoy from behind. "Potter's dead regardless, I've got ten galleons on that."

Most of the Slytherins nodded in agreement. One of the younger students sounded out, "What of Diggory?"

"I wouldn't mind seeing the pretty boy lose his hair in the fire," Zabini quipped.

"Only because he's better looking than you," Nott remarked, earning a glare from the dark-skinned Slytherin.

"Welcome," the loud voice of Ludo Bagman boomed from everywhere. "Welcome to the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament."

The applause and cheers reached a crescendo.

"The task at hand is very simple," the voice explained energetically. "The Champions, with the aid of whatever the Junior Champions have provided, need to get past an angry mother dragon to retrieve a golden egg."

"An angry mother dragon?" a seventh-year hissed happily. "Potter's done for."

"And without further ado, let us invite the first Champion into the stage for the show to begin. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Cedric Diggory."

There was a mix of claps and shouts as the Hufflepuff entered the arena, a blueish-grey Swedish Short-Snout laid in wait, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. The cheers slowly softened down into a steady buzz.

"What did the Hufflepuff say he would do?" Nott asked Anya.

"Play it by ear."

There was a wave of snorts from the Slytherins around her who heard that statement. Cedric sprang into action, taking cover behind a large rock. He took out the two tusks and rapped the white one with his wand and the arena suddenly came to a pindrop silence, the only sound radiating from the stands and the commentary. The dragon stood dazedly for a moment, as though trying to find its bearings.

"And what was that?" Bagman cried out. "It appears that Mr Diggory has just pulled out the items provided by Ms Seryy, a runic item capable of either nullifying or emitting sound and smell, very smart against a creature that smells more than sees. Well, what's his plan from here?"

A wave of Cedric's wand had a nearby rock transfigure into a large Labrador, two motions of his wand activated the black tusk and sent it flying to the dog, sticking on its side. The screech and scent of rotting flesh reached the stands and the dragon immediately fixed it head in the direction of the dog. Both man and dog dashed off in opposite directions, Cedric keeping a low profile as he ran for the eggs while the dog made itself as obtrusive as possible. With the two contrasting runes in play, the Swedish Short-Snout paid no heed to Cedric, lunging for the bounding dog with haste.

"Oh! He's taking risks, this one! Dashing straight for the eggs like that." Bagman cried out.

However, the dragon was faster than everyone expect and it descended onto the transfigured dog as Cedric was halfway through reaching the eggs. Its fangs tore through the dog and smashed the runic tusk attached, cancelling its effects. The screeching from the dog stopped and the dragon begun to swivel its head about, searching for a new target. Despite, the Short-Snout having poor vision, the moving figure of Cedric still drew its attention.

"Ohhh…" Bagman said in disappointment. "It was a clever move utilising what Ms Seryy gave him, pity it didn't last long enough. Now, is Mr Diggory going to close the distance on the golden egg? There's a fair bit of distance, but he might just make it."

Cedric was sprinting for the golden egg at top speed, and the dragon was closing in. Just as the Short-Snout let out a breath of fire, Cedric dove for the egg. The flames clipped just the top of his hair, but he managed to land right on the golden egg, securing his objective.

"Wow! That was close ladies and gentlemen," Bagman cried out as the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers and the dragon-keepers rushed in to keep the Short-Snout at bay. "Fifteen minutes, not that bad indeed. Mr Diggory has set quite the benchmark for the next Champions. Now let's take a look at the scores."

_Thirty-eight points in total, not bad._

"Now, its Ms Seryy's points for her runic item designed for wide-area alteration of noise and smell."

A nine from Madame Maxime and Bagman. A five from Professor Karkaroff. And eights from Dumbledore and Crouch. The Slytherins around her exploded in cheers, clapping her in the back.

_Thirty-nine, not bad as well._

"Thirty-nine!" echoed Astoria, wrapping her arms tightly around Anya and yelping in joy. "That's even better than Diggory."

"Remember to lend me your Runes notes for future lessons," Nott muttered from the side, a small smile on his lips.

"Cough up enough galleons and maybe I'll consider."

Fleur Delacour came next, with Jean Poitiers' item. From what Anya saw, she was holding a sack tightly bound with string. The Welsh Green stared at the French in expectation, she banished the sack up in the air and hit it with a cutting curse. The contents within the sack came loose and the rich, strong aroma of roast meat filled her nose, around her see could see Crabbe and Goyle salivating from the scent alone. Within the sack was a lump of roast beef, clearly charmed or doused in potions to amplify its aroma. Fleur whirled her wand and pointed it straight at the roast beef, which began to multiply rapidly. It was the most unorthodox use of a _Geminio _Charm Anya had ever saw, but she couldn't deny its effectiveness and creativity.

"Brilliant! Simply brilliant!" Bagman said with a rich laugh. "Who would have thought of something like that? Clearly, Ms Delacour and Mr Poitiers are bent on showing the superiority of French cuisine, and the dragon seems to confirm that statement as well."

By this point, a small mountain of roast beef had formed between Fleur and the Welsh Green. The dragon had begun to feast on the meat and Fleur simply took her time sneaking around it, periodically casting more _Geminio _Charms to keep the Welsh Green in check. Fleur ended up with the golden egg in twenty minutes, but not a scratch on her.

When the judges cast their scores, an excellent display of Charms but a comparative lack in the task's main purpose of showing daring earned her thirty-five points. Her partner, Poitiers, received thirty-eight points for showing the ability to think outside the box to come out with something simplistically creative via cooking and potions.

The Durmstrang Champion was next and he walked up bold as brass, staring down the Chinese Fireball without fear. A flick of his wand and Krum sent a vial hurtling straight for its nose, the vial burst into thick fumes which the Chinese Fireball inhaled.

The effect was instantaneous and the dragon began to sway a little. Krum followed up with a curse to the Chinese Fireball's eyes, the curse found its mark and the dragon ended up thrashing about in agony.

"Sweet Merlin, that man has guts taking a dragon face on," Bagman exclaimed. "Just the nerves you would expect from a world-class seeker."

Krum quickly made his way for the golden egg, avoiding the rampaging dragon as he did so. However, said rampaging dragon crushed a good number of eggs before Krum could get his golden egg. This had cost him points, but Krum had managed to top the competition so far, raking in forty points. Dulovo himself earned thirty-four for his prowess in potions.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. Anya watched on as her brother raised his wand and screamed at the top of his wand.

"_Accio Firebolt_."

Smart. Anya mused, tactics like this were straight of out Nathaniel's and Grey's books. There was a silent anticipation as everyone – including Bagman – waited for the results of Harry's gamble. Sure enough, a Firebolt came whizzing around the corner of the castle and into the arena.

"Well, this is an unexpected move from Mr Potter," Bagman declared. "Just what exactly is the plan our youngest Champion have concocted?"

Harry boarded his broomstick and began speeding towards a waiting Hungarian Horntail, turning and weaving around it. A sharp pull that brought Harry inches away from both hard ground and dragon fire elicited gasps from the crowds.

"Great Scott, he can fly! Mr Krum, are you watching this?"

The swing of the Horntail's spiky tail managed to scrape Harry's shoulder, this time eliciting screams from the crowd, but the Gryffindor was unfazed. Harry started climbing higher and higher in a sweeping circular path, slowly luring the protective mother dragon away from the eggs. When the Horntail had overextended, Harry dug into his robes and pulled out a black tusk, a prod from his wand and a great heave sent the screeching item in the opposite direction and the Horntail followed it.

"Oh! There's the set-up from Mr Potter. Great plan, but will the execution be just as great?

He dives down. The Horntail doesn't notice, it's too focused on Ms Seryy's little trinket. Potter speeds in. Arms are open. The Horntail has its wings spread open. There's the window of opportunity. Potter's going for the golden egg. Sweeps in and- YES!

We talked about the execution and Mr Potter here delivered _splendidly_. Talk about skill, talk about nerves. Where was this man when England got flattened in this year's World Cup?"

There was a thunderous wave of cheers as Harry rose from the eggs, the golden egg tucked in his arm.

"Will you just look at that ladies and gentlemen, our youngest Champion is the fastest in getting his golden egg."

The dragon-keepers leapt into action and Harry was ushered away to the medical tent. When all had settled down, Harry had won forty points, bringing him up to tie with Krum. Anya, out of curiosity, chanced a glanced at Malfoy behind her, only to see the fuming blonde stomping away in anger.

"Come on, Anya," Astoria tugged at her sleeves. "Don't the champions get to visit the tents with a guest or two? Bring me along there, I want to take a look at Diggory."

"Diggory?" Anya asked.

"Excuse me? Haven't you seen that man, he's absolutely dreamy."

"Alright," Anya chuckled, rising from her seat. "You can tag along, I'm supposed to be there for a briefing once the task is over. But don't blame me if you get kicked out."

The two made their way to the tents, where Astoria promptly began to wander off on her own, taking care to avoid drawing attention. Anya let her be, the second-year was growing on her, covering a patch on her heart that had been violently ripped out long ago.

"Seryy, good to see you."

"Diggory, glad to see you alive. You've looked better."

"I can agree on that," the Hufflepuff grinned from beneath the thick yellow paste plastered on his face.

"The Short-Snout got you good, huh?"

"Would have been worse if not for your runes, worked very well, shame the Short-Snout got to the dog too fast. You ought to consider being a curse-breaker or even a ward specialist with that level of Runes."

"It was some nice Transfiguration work on your end to."

Anya left the Hufflepuff to rest and decided to check on the other Champions. Fleur was unharmed and Krum suffered a few bruises from avoiding the rampaging Chinese Fireball. Harry sat in corner, with Madam Pomfrey fussing over the gash on his shoulder. All in all, Hogwarts came out with more injuries in this First Task.

"You look like a mess Potter," Anya stated. "But that was some smooth flying though."

"Thanks, Seryy," Harry grinned. "Your runes were good too, threw the Horntail off and gave me an opening."

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," Bagman entered the tent jovially, bounding with energy. "That was an exciting First Task, but there's more to come. You see the charming golden eggs that you have fought hard for? They contain the clues for the upcoming task, so do give them a good inspection in your free time. The Second Task will take place on the twenty-third of January. As for the Champions and Junior Champions assignment, Jean Poitiers of Beauxbatons will be aiding Viktor Krum for the Second Task, Mihail Dulovo to the two Hogwarts Champions and Anya Seryy to Fleur Delacour. I wish you all good luck."

With a deep bow and a cheery wave, Bagman bid the champions farewell and excused himself, leaving the champions to themselves.


	8. Chapter 8 - Yule Part 1

Chapter 8 – Yule Part 1

**December 1991**

Despite it being late into the year, the weather in costal Xiamen was mild. Thank Merlin for the little things.

"喂, 请问有没有人在家?" (Hello, is anyone home?)

The voice sounded like that of a little girl as the knocking on the door grew louder. The Chinese wizard grumbled in his window-side seat, he was comfortable and the flat offered a perfect view of the port. He was in his late thirties, sporting an impressive beer belly. On the table beside him lay a pair of omniculars, a wand and a pistol, he reached for the wand.

"大哥, 你去看一看是谁!" (Big brother, go take a look at who it is!)

A surly elder Chinese across the room grunted and moved to the door. He wasn't really the other man's big brother, it was just how hierarchy was established in the Chinese gangs.

The portly man eyed his partner's movements from his seat, before he disappeared out of view. Why on Earth would anyone – especially a little girl – be disturbing them was beyond the man. It was two in the morning and their flat was heavily warded, no one should be knocking on their door, no one should even be able to detect their flat.

Around the corner where the man last saw his partner, a young girl stepped into view. She had a large overcoat wrapped around her, it was too big for her, she didn't bother putting her arms through the sleeves of it. Her green eyes were shining from the reflection of the light.

"你到底在这里干吗? 阿暴在哪儿?" (What on Earth are you doing here? Where's Ah Bao?")

The man raised his wand at girl with suspicion, but he didn't fire off any spell, the girl looked totally harmless. He cast his eyes about searching for any sign of his partner, but had he paid more attention to the girl, he would have noticed a tiny hole on the overcoat facing him. It was hip high and was the size of a bullet entry – or exit, there was a small protrusion against the coat near the hole as well.

He never felt his own death as his head snapped backwards, his body toppling down and landing on the floor violently but silently, courtesy of a swiftly placed Silencing Charm. His passing was absolutely silent, just like his partner at the doorway, blood pooling beneath the body.

The girl glanced around the room of the flat, closing her left eye and solely using her right eye. She strolled into every room and checked them, making sure no one else was in the flat, using her wand instead of hand to open the doors. As she reached the last door, it burst open before she could open it. A lanky Chinese sprang at her and pinned her against the wall.

The man began to open his mouth, a curse at the tip of his lips. However, trigger squeeze was always faster than an incantation, it was the reason the girl favoured her Makarov pistol instead of her wand. She tilted the pistol hidden by her overcoat upwards, emptying two rounds into the man, one in the neck, one in the eye.

The man slumped down onto the floor as the girl staggered to find her balance. She checked the last room and found it empty, the flat was clear.

"Crow to all. Observation post is clear," she softly said.

"Nice work Anya," a singsong voice chirped from her earpiece. "Is there any good snacks there? I'm starving"

"Tanya, cut the chatter," the sound of an irate Aleks buzzed out. "Dimitri, Jen, where are the two of you?"

"We're in position already," said Dimitri. "Jeez old man, it's like you don't trust us."

"Damn right I don't, I'd rather be anywhere else than here chaperoning a bunch of kids," Aleks snapped. "I would gladly pay galleons to have an actual ward-breaker like Vlad here than two fucking clowns."

"Then why would Nathaniel be trusting this operation to a bunch of kids, of which two of them are _fucking clowns_," came Dimitri's snide reply.

"How the fuck am I supposed to know!?" Aleks' yell almost made Anya rip her earpiece out.

Everyone was holding on to their snickers at this point, an angry Aleks was always fun to poke at, provided there was a safe distance from him. Anya made her way over to the once occupied seat and looked out the window. She could see most of the port, ships and cargo freighters were docked in a neat line by the towering red cranes, piles of shipping container were stacked on the port grounds. Despite it being far from sunrise, visibility was still provided by the numerous street lamps and the occasional moving lights signalling a truck delivering cargo.

Beyond the calm, black waters was the shore on the other side of the narrow straits separating Xiamen Island from the mainland. Pinpricks of light could be seen from the distance in the mainland.

Kiel entered the place, grimly looking at the dead bodies, taking care not to have his combat boots stained by the blood. Slung across his shoulder were two Dragunov rifles, one was his, the other was Anya's. He had a lightweight ballistic vest over his shirt, the vest harness holding a number of pouches and a pistol holster. Over the vest was a black jacket. He laid his rifle on the table and picked up the omniculars laying there.

"Russian-made," he commented as he examined the equipment. "We're likely on the right track, Russia doesn't export the omniculars they make."

"Window's bulletproof and spellproof too," he observed. "Laminated glass and protective charms."

"Let's get a move on shall we?" Kiel asked as he handed Anya her rifle.

Anya shrugged off the cumbersome overcoat to reveal a similar apparel as Kiel, it was the standard dressing for all of them. She took the rifle and pushed the window slightly open, enough for the barrel to slide though. Resting the rifle on the windowsill, she began her surveillance. It was a tip-off, a cargo freighter docking in Xiamen had magical goods from the Reds in Russia. A sign of goodwill to possible allies in China as they needed help, desperately.

It wasn't the goods Nathaniel had sent them over for, those were secondary. It was information, they needed to know which ship it was and the port in Russia it came from. Finding the ship had been easy enough, Anya simply had to take a broomstick and fly around the area under Disillusionment Charms. The ship surrounded by a web-like sphere of magic was the one they were looking for, Spooks and wizards always warded their belongings. Incidentally, that was also how Anya found the observation post she was currently in now.

Spooks. It was a term coined by the Muggles they had worked alongside with, unable to understand the magic performed in front of their very eyes. They were the bane of the Statue of Secrecy, yet they required the least interference from Oblivating. They operated with both magic and Muggle technology, knowing how to integrate one with the other and they understood both cultures well.

Governments and syndicates - both magical and Muggle - had their own. Wetwork was their chief line of operations, a grim and dirty bridge between two worlds. Wizards have always outdone Muggles via magic, but Spooks had many advantages wizards did not. One was that they learnt to appreciate the range Muggle technology had to offer.

Anya and Kiel's rifle went off almost in sync, two soft thumps as magically accelerated bullets sped across eight hundred meters. The two wizards under Disillusionment Charms at the gates of the port collapsed onto the floor, the charms conveniently hiding the bodies - and thankfully the blood as well.

"Did I hit him? I can't see the bodies," Kiel asked.

"It's a hit, I can confirm," Anya assured him. "The bullets when right through the cords."

"You say it like as though it's something I can understand."

Anya watched as Dimitri and Jen slip through the gates, making their way into the port. Under Disillusionment Charms, they darted from corner to corner, shadow to shadow. Finally, they reached the line of cargo freighters, silent giants slumbering.

"Which ship was it again, Anya?" Dimitri asked.

"Merlin's sake Dim," Jen said testily before Anya could respond. "Were you listening? Blue ship. Second down the line from the Southwest. Ship name is _Silver Glory_. You're the clown Aleks keeps talking about."

"Shut your damn mouth and get going," Dimitri and Aleks' voice came out at almost the same time.

The two boys stealthily made their way down the line of ships keeping close to the shipping containers. When they reached the _Silver Glory_, they pointed their wands at the freighter and started to probe the wards in place. Anya could see the web-like lines surrounding the ship waver and shake, reacting to the intrusions of the two boys.

"Crow," Jen chimed in amidst his long string of incantations. "Mind giving us a bit of assistance?"

"The ward fluxes are concentrated on eight specific nodes," Anya described as she observed the strands of magic weaving and twisting around the ship. "Each node has its own colour and has three thick lines surrounding it, some broken, some unbroken."

"Eight nodes... different colours," Jen muttered, trying to visualise Anya's description. "Three lines... broken and unbroken... Got it! Dimitri, it's an Eight Trigrams-based ward pattern."

That had been one the beauties of working with Jen, he never failed to interpret what Anya could see, they were normally on the same page.

"Damn me," whistled Dimitri. "No wonder this seemed so strange, never dealt much with Oriental wards. This is all you, Mr I-use-soy-sauce-instead-of-salt."

"Crow, tell me," the Asian ignored the jibe as he continued working on the wards, linking his magic to it. "Where's the node that has three unbroken lines around it?"

"Forty to fifty meters from the stern of the ship. Same level as the deck."

"Thanks," said Jen, Anya could see him stowing his wand as he dragged Dimitri down the port, to the stern of the ship. "Come on Dim, I'm going to need your raw power for this."

"Mind telling me the plan?" Dimitri asked as he ran alongside Jen.

"Each part of the Eight Trigrams has its own nature," Jen explained as he ran. "The one with three unbroken lines is 乾(qian), the Heaven nature, each nature has its own seasons. In wards, this affects where the weak and strong points are. At this time of the year, Heaven is at its weakest."

"So we hit it at its weakest?"

"More or less."

Anya watched from her position as the duo got to work, waving their wands as the node of lines began to shake uncontrollably. The shaking climaxed as the node erupted into a mass of broken coils and the entire sphere of lines collapsed, the ward was broken.

"Ward's down, Aleks," Jen's voice sounded through the earpiece.

"Roger. Tanya and I are coming, keep yourselves out trouble in the short few seconds. Anya, Kiel, ensure that for me."

A few moments was all it took for Aleks to apparate to the bulwark in front of the freighter, bringing Tanya along with him. The man and girl joined up with the two boys and they checked the area for any threats, placing down their own temporary wards.

"Alright, everyone by the ship stay here, stay sharp. Crow, I'm apparating you over here to check for traps. Your eye might be good, but spotting small booby traps from your current location is liable to mistakes. Kiel, you can keep watch on your own."

A crack brought Aleks into the flat and Anya made to grab his arm, wishing that Nathaniel would start teaching her the Portkey Charm. One unpleasant trip brought her onto the port with the rest of the group. With their walking trap detector next to them, the group made their way onto the freighter, walking up the gangplank.

"You see any threats?" Aleks asked, keeping his eyes on the sights of his AK-47 as he scanned the deck of the freighter.

"No magical signatures that indicate a trap," Anya replied, swapping her Dragunov for her Makarov and sliding the rifle in her magically expanded knapsack. "So far no Muggle traps too."

"Tanya, with me up to the bridge," said Aleks, taking charge. "Crow, you and the two clowns comb the deck and see if you find what the Reds have to offer."

Tanya followed Aleks up the stairs of the freighter, Silencing Charms cancelling what would have been the loud clanking of boot on metal steps.

"Shall we?" Jen asked, whirling his wand in excitement. The three made their way through the deck, weaving through the containers on the freighter. It was mostly empty, except for the two gun-wielding Muggles they had to Confound. Soon, a particular crate caught Anya's eye.

"That container there," said Anya, pointing a finger that the blue metal container. "Has magic on it, wards and protective charms. Likely a locking spell of sorts."

"Nothing ol' thermite paste can't solve," Dimitri said, opening one of the pouches on his vest and pulling out a plastic tube. He uncapped the tube and squeezed out a reddish-brown paste on the hinges of the container door.

"You know," Anya said nonchalantly. "You and Jen could have broken the wards magically and just open the door."

"And miss the chance to set things on fire? Fuck off. Plus, it feels good knowing their protective spells are useless against plain old fire. _Incendio_."

The thermite paste lit up into a blinding flare as Dimitri's spell connected, biting into the steel door with ease as the reaction reached scorching temperatures of beyond four thousand degrees Fahrenheit. The steel hinges did not stand a chance as they melted away, leaving the disconnected door toppling onto the floor, the sound of its almighty crash silenced by a jab of both Anya and Jen's wand. The three poked their heads in, wands and pistols raised.

"_Lumos_." Jen muttered.

"Well, if the tip-off called this a goodwill gift," said Dimitri, looking at the contents of the boxes within the container. "The Reds are really damn desperate for allies."

"No kidding," Anya looked over the intended gifts. It would have cost quite a sum, dragon's blood and hide, various potions and a baby dragon – a Siberian Twin-Tail if Anya was not mistaken – sedated and bound in a cage.

"What'd you think we do?" Jen asked, inspecting a bottle of dragon's blood.

"Burn them all?" Dimitri shrugged, reaching for another tube of thermite paste. "Not like we brought the equipment to load them all back to Russia."

"Yes, burn the dragon, Dimitri," Anya said sardonically. "Who would have thought of that?"

"Top that off with potential collateral damage," Jen added, now bending over to check on the sedated dragon.

"Come on," Dimitri protested. "We've done more collateral damage than that."

"Crow, Dimitri, Jen. Where are you?" Aleks' voice crackled in their earpiece. "Tanya and I are done searching the bridge, we got our location."

"Where?" Anya and Jen asked in unison.

"Vladivostok."

**XXXXX**

**December 1994**

With the Yule Ball arriving in weeks, Anya noticed that the festive air in Hogwarts was simply bounding with energy. Classes had slowly started to lose their tempo as student became more and more eager for what many had considered to be 'the highlight of the year'. The teachers had tried to reign in some control over their class, to varying degrees of effect. McGonagall, Snape and Moody firmly remained in control, but other teachers were beginning to slowly lose their class as the days ticked closer and closer to the Ball.

"Ms Seryy, see me after this class is over," Snape called out to her as she was working on her antidote, the main topic for this year's Potions.

Anya glanced up at the man, trying to get a read on his intentions, but the man remained as inscrutable as ever. She could also notice the stares she was getting from the class, Snape calling to see someone after class never bode well.

"Yes sir," she nodded before returning to her work.

When the bell rang and the students began packing their bags, Anya stayed behind, patiently waiting for Snape.

"Ms Seryy, it is my duty to remind you that the champions need to bring a partner of the opening dance of the Yule Ball," Snape said uninterestingly, sounding as though he had much better things to do. "Had Professor Dumbledore not pestered all the Head-of-Houses to ensure this, I would not have bothered with this conversation. In order to placate our Headmaster, I will have to ask, have you found a partner for the Ball yet?"

"Not yet, sir," Anya replied casually. "Rest assured, I will ensure that it is done."

"I would expect so," Snape said offhandedly, waving her off in dismissal. "You have proven your self-sufficiency adequately and I question why our Headmaster finds all this necessary, but my job is done. You may go."

As Anya left the dungeon, she found Nott and Zabini waiting for her, leaning against the stone walls of the Hogwarts corridors, both of them with a fag between their fingers. The three of them started making their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"So what did Snape want you for?" Zabini asked as he let out a puff of smoke, the mild smell of burned tobacco tainting the air.

"Wanted to know if I had a partner for the Yule Ball."

"Do you?" Nott spoke up, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Not yet."

The three had reached the Slytherin table and began placing food on their plates, Nott and Zabini had disposed of their fags long ago.

"Worry not," Zabini said, digging into his potatoes. "I'm sure there'll be herds of boys asking for your hand, you're good looking and a Junior Champion. Heck, I may even be part of the herd."

"Are you asking?" Anya inquired, giving the dark-skinned Slytherin a sidelong glance.

"Not yet," Zabini grinned. "At the moment, you're second choice. I've got my eyes on this smoking hot Ravenclaw at the moment."

Anya and Nott snickered into their pumpkin juice, Zabini's numerous flings at many of the female population had been a source of amusement. Or rather, the backlash he suffered whenever he dumped one to switch targets, Anya could still clearly recall the screeching third-year Ravenclaw girl who hexed Zabini so badly he had to stay in the Hospital Wing overnight.

"Oh! You're going to ask Cho Chang?" giggled Davis. "Good luck with that Zabini, you're going to have stiff competition. What about you Seryy, anyone in mind?"

"None at all, Davis," said Anya with a shake of her head. "Not going to fuss over such things, it's not life or death."

"Not life or death?" repeated Davis in shock. "This is going to be the biggest social event Hogwarts had in years, it is life or death. You get to ask your crush out and an admirer may ask you out, it's the perfect situation for love to bloom."

Merely humming in acknowledgement, Anya continued on with her meal, allowing Davis to stew in her thoughts.

"Sure wish I was you, Seryy," Davis said enviously. "I'd have people dying to ask me out, especially Potter."

"What?" Anya snorted with surprise and disbelief, holding back the laughter that was building in her throat. "You're kidding, Davis."

"No, I'm not!" the other girl exclaimed. "Look at the way he _stares_ at you, he even tried to intervene when Malfoy tried to pick on you, knight in shining armour and all. I would gladly go to the Ball with _The-Boy-Who-Lived_."

"That was hardly an intervention and he doesn't stare at me anymore, it's probably because I was a new student," Anya waved it off with a light chuckle.

"Whatever you say Seryy."

Zabini and Davis had been right though, the days approaching the Yule Ball saw Anya starting to receive more and more gifts from admirers. Morning posts had owls bearing Anya the usual gifts of flowers and chocolates, the suitors had slowly started to appear as well.

The first to ask her was a nervous Gryffindor first-year, Anya had to give him credit, his bravery befitted his house. She politely turned him down. Then, there were the waves of egoistical seventh-years whose heads were so inflated she rejected them outright. However, she wasn't that picky and the event seemed of little importance to her. In the spirit of international cooperation, or more likely in hopes of not having to talk as much due to a language barrier, she accepted a charming Beauxbatons student's request to accompany her for the Yule Ball.

"I can't believe you went out with a foreigner," said Zabini one day as the three Slytherins hung out in the corner of the school for a smoke break, Anya the only one without a cigarette in her mouth.

"That's rich, telling that to a foreign transfer student."

"I would have gone with you," Zabini said in mock furiousness. "I did say you were _second_ choice."

All of them laughed at that, even Nott let out a small rumble of amusement.

"What a shame you got rejected by Cho Chang," Anya said mirthfully, turning another page of her Charms textbook. "Guess pretty boy wasn't pretty enough."

"Hey! How was I supposed to know that Cedric Diggory, the freaking Hogwarts Champion, had already asked her," Zabini defended himself. "Not to worry though, I've got myself an almost equally hot Durmstrang girl in my arms."

"I knew Diggory was better looking than you," Nott said softly the from side, sending an amused glance at the dark-skinned boy as he jibed at his weak spot.

The statement drew astonishing results as Zabini launched into a furious tirade against the Hufflepuff, sending Anya and Nott into fresh waves of laughter.

"Uh... Seryy? Can I have a moment?"

Anya turned her attention to the newcomer and was surprised to see her brother standing there, nervously fidgeting.

"Well, I'm not assisting you in the next task, but sure."

Anya left the two smokers and followed Harry, walking beside him.

"Was that Zabini and Nott smoking?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Are you going to keep that to yourself, or am I going to have to try my hand at a memory charm?" Anya sighed.

"No, I'll keep it to myself," Harry said quickly as he came to a stop and faced Anya. "I want to ask you something actually."

"And what's that?" Anya asked casually, but brought her guard up.

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath and opening his mouth.

"Will... you go to the Ball with me?"

Anya forced herself to keep a straight face as Davis' mocking voice found its way into her head, repeating itself like a broken recorder. Anya looked at the Gryffindor and saw her brother surveying her with a blush on his face, to say that she found the situation awkward was a complete understatement.

_There's absolutely no way._

In the end, as soon as the words 'accidental incest' formed in her mind, she could not keep her straight face any longer. She smacked her hand to her face and bent over laughing, tears forming in her eyes. She couldn't care less if she looked in front of Harry's eyes, but the stupidity of the scenario was too hilarious to Anya, it seemed straight out from one those dumb soap operas Dimitri had binged on.

"I'll take that as a no?" Harry said depressingly, looking hurt by Anya's reaction.

"Yes, it's a no, Potter," said Anya as soon as she calmed herself down, wiping the tears off her eyes. "But don't take my laughter the wrong way. I've already gotten a date, you just reminded me of the last person who asked me to the Ball a few hours ago. And let me assure you that he did much, much, _much_ worse than you."

"Oh," Harry said softly, looking mollified by her half-truths. "What'd he do?"

"Dropped his pants accidently while he was asking me," Anya fibbed easily. "Not the most impressive of displays."

"I can imagine," Harry chuckled at the image of it. "So who are you going with?"

"Some Beauxbatons bloke, couldn't bother with his name. It was Arno or Andre something, I can't remember."

"You can't remember the name of your date?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I'm not really into this Yule Ball thing. It's fun I guess, but very tedious from the sound of it. What about you Potter? You don't look like you're having luck."

"I asked Cho Chang and- well... she was already taken. Then I thought you'd be alright, you seemed quite nice back when you helped me in the First Task and you're very good looking too."

Being called good looking by her own brother only turned up the scale of awkwardness and Anya decided to halt the conversation in its tracks. "Well, happy hunting then."

"Yeah, well. I guess I'll see you at the Ball."

"Indeed, and Potter."

"Yes?"

"Don't be afraid to ask the girls to the Ball, you're already a good catch and confidence builds a good image. Trust me when I say most girls will not be impressed if you stammer your way through things like these."

"O-oh," Harry stuttered, surprised to find the girl offering some advice before nodding and waving a hasty goodbye, making his way back.


	9. Chapter 9 - Yule Part 2

Chapter 9 - Yule Part 2

**December 1991**

Chilling waves of Arctic waters pummelled the bulwarks of the Vladivostok coast, splashing into jets of ice-cold droplets as waves met concrete. Off into the city, the last rays of crimson sunlight were peeking through the gaps between the buildings, slowly being dragged down by time.

Anya and Jen did the last of their rounds about the waterfront of the city, searching for any wards that may indicate a hidden headquarters. The information from Xiamen had corroborated with other sources from Nathaniel, their man was in Vladivostok, and so was his headquarters. Aleks' had brought the kids to Vladivostok to join up with Nathaniel, Vlad and a few other adults she couldn't recognise. From there, they had split into pairs, combing the city for their man. Ignovich was his name and he was responsible - though seldom personally - for a third of all kidnapping cases in eastern Russia, Muggle and magical.

"乌鸦, 找得到吗(Crow, can you find it)?" Jen asked her as he checked their rear, keeping an eye out for ambushes. Despite being brought in by Nathaniel for five years, Mandarin never wore off the boy's speech. Anya had been the first and only other person to humour that trait of his.

"找不到(Can't find it)," Anya sighed, clutching her coat ever closer. "真想念厦门的天气(I really miss Xiamen's weather)."

"我也是(Me too)," Jen laughed dryly. "俄国太冷了(Russia's too cold)."

The two huddled together for warmth as they walked along the coastline, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Or rather, Anya scanned while Jen watched her back. The lines her right eye saw twisted about, but none of them hinted any wards. Suddenly, dread filled her body as she saw blood-red lines creep about the fringes of her vision. She recognised them, a number of Nathaniel's and many of Vlad's training sessions had made her right eye sensitive to it.

She was directly in the line of danger.

There was an inherent fear in the sensation of knowing you are in danger but understanding how or why. Her body simply stiffened at the sensation, five senses thrown into overdrive as her body sought to figure out the source of her danger. However, she picked out no magic in the air, the threat was completely non-magical. The crimson lines seemed to tauten as the moments when by, similar to the white lines whenever she placed her finger on the trigger of her Dragunov.

Jen acted immediately, noticing his partner stiffening. He threw himself on her and instinctively cast a Shield Charm, covering the girl from any harm. Anya saw the red lines fade away as the two of them landed on the floor, Jen taking the brunt of the fall. Bright violet sparks showered onto the two of them in light scalding sensations as something fast impacted Jen's shields.

"Sniper, northwest," Jen spoke quickly as he took note of the direction the bullet came from, switching from Mandarin in favour of the English Nathaniel had enforced on them for missions. "_Fumos_."

Smoke erupted from the tip of Jen's wand into a thick blanket, denying their foe a clear target. He hauled Anya up to her feet and the two took off running under the cover of the smokescreen Jen had cast. Anya took a moment to notice the irony of it all, the lack of concealment spells was the reason she didn't see the sniper. Two Disillusionment Charms were cast, followed by a wide-area heating charm to mask their heat signatures. If their sniper did not use magic at all, thermal optics – a device easily disrupted by magic – would now be a possible option by the sniper. Anya and Jen both realised this and they were not taking chances, Disillusionment Charms did not hide their heat.

Jen called in for help through his earpiece while Anya drew her Dragunov from her knapsack and took aim, the smokescreen hampering her in no manner. The whirl and tautening of the white lines in her vision signalled the pull of her trigger. The spurt of blood registered by her right eye was the confirmation she needed.

"Are the both of you alright?" a crack of apparition brought Nathaniel and Vlad over to them, both holding on to wand and pistol.

"Shaken but fine," Anya reported, pointing at where the sniper was. "I took a shot, his rifle and right arm is disabled but he should be alive.

The adults spoke no words, they merely disapparated. The two kids waited for what seemed to be minutes before Nathaniel's voice crackled into their earpiece.

"Everyone, we got the location. Rendezvous at Pokrovsky Park, by the church."

Another crack of apparition had Nathaniel between the two kids. He grabbed their arms and spun around, bring the two along to the park. The Church of the Intercession of the Mother of God was a newly built Orthodox Church and one of the new religious sightseeing spots for tourists.

However, it now served as a location for an odd gathering of people. Anya saw Aleks and Dimitri lurking under a tree, shooting dirty glares at each other, maybe pairing them up together was a mistake. Vlad, a gaunt ashen man with matte black hair, was patrolling the area, fresh blood dripping from his hands. The others were flushed against the wall of the church, looking expectantly at Nathaniel.

"Listen up," Nathaniel said, pulling out a piece of paper. "Coordinates are on this piece of paper, put them in your GPS and take a look at the area. I'll give you guys three minutes to get a good look at the expected terrain before we move. We're going to need to be fast, because there's a chance they know we're coming."

A wave of his wand duplicated the paper and sent the copies to everyone. Anya caught her and placed the numbers on her GPS, watching as the screen showed an industrial complex on the outskirts of the city.

"Vlad and I will move first, we'll apparate to the place and lock it down with Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey Jinxes. Entry point will be the eastern wall, the team going in will be me, Vlad, Igor and Zahir. Anya, you and Jen will follow us, I'll need your eye. The rest of you, surround the area and make sure no one gets out."

Whirling on the spot, the two man disapparated away, leaving the rest to familiarise themselves with the upcoming area. Anya could notice a couple of envious stares from some of the younger adults directed at her and Jen. Nathaniel seldom took on protégés and many had to claw their way to being able to take part in operations with him.

"Three minutes are up!" someone shouted, prompting everyone to begin their apparitions. One bronze-skinned Middle Eastern man grabbed Anya and Jen, bringing them to Nathaniel with a spin.

The site was large, metal fences and cinder block walls surrounded the compound in multiple layers, barbed wire sitting on top of them. Brown blocks of buildings laid in neat rows, some with tall black chimneys attached to their side and many with glass encompassed by dark metal grates adorning their walls. Thick pipes and wires crawled all over the buildings, sprawling over the area like the intestines of the compound.

Nathaniel and Vlad were standing by the street that ran down to the gates of the compound, using the alleyway for cover and waiting for company. Nathaniel caught sight of his reinforcements and nodded to Vlad. Vlad turned to the oncoming people and jerked his head to the gates of the compound, signalling them to follow.

"Anya," Nathaniel said curtly. "What do you see?"

"Wards, plenty of them," Anya observed, looking over the place. Far into the compound, blue lines flew out from various buildings at top speed, only to bounce off a mesh of red lines surrounding the compound. "Portkeys are being activated too, your jinxes are working though."

"Well, it looks like they already know we are coming," Nathaniel said, turning to Vlad. "Looks like we don't need to silently crack the wards, so much for bringing Jen. Vlad, you can use _the_ ward-breaker."

Taking off with a light jog, Nathaniel made his way to the gate where two people were standing guard on high alert, their rifles held high and close to the chest. They were expecting trouble. Seeing the approaching man, the guards levelled their rifles at him.

"_Kto ty_?" one of the guards shouted, taking a step forward.

Nathaniel took no heed, continuing his path as he swiped his wand in the air, turning their rifles into rabid canines. The feral dogs leapt out of the guards' arms, turning on the spot as they landed and leaping back at their throats. The guards toppled onto the ground as the dogs clamped violently on their throats, fangs sinking through flesh. Their cries stifled as voices struggled to pass through sealed windpipes.

As Nathaniel reached the gates, he waved his wand a few times to no effect. He turned back to where Vlad and the others were standing, giving the ashen man a thumbs up. Then, he ran away from the gates, taking cover behind a parked car.

Reaching into his bag, Vlad pulled out a RPG-7D. _Ruchnoy Protivotankoviy Granatomyot_, a Russian-made rocket-propelled grenade launcher. It was the anti-armour weapon of choice for the Muggle irregular military. It was rugged, simple and cheap. More importantly, it got the job done.

From the bag, Vlad also took out a warhead for the launcher. The warhead was carved completely in runes built for destroying magical wards, a number of its lines were sequenced to convert the explosive power of the Muggle weapon into raw magical power to fuel the runes. However, its secret 'ingredient' was a technique devised by Nathaniel's grandfather to amplify the power of Muggle explosives, it was soaked in a Strengthening Solution for twenty four hours and left to dry.

Vlad loaded in the warhead and took aim. With a pull of the trigger, the warhead took off into the air in a swift 'whoosh', speeding into the compound gates and – more importantly – the wards. As the warhead impacted the gates, it exploded into a large black fireball, sending shockwaves into the air. Nobody needed a magical sight to see the wards fall as the air around the compound turned into a milky white, before bursting open like a popped bubble from where the warhead had struck.

Immediately, shouts sounded across the compound and an Intruder Charm went off, send ear-piercing shrieks into the air. The group started moving into the compound, the two unfamiliar faces – Igor and Zahir – taking the front with rifles raised while Anya and Jen stuck with Nathaniel at the centre, wands and pistols drawn. Vlad kept to the back covering their rear, stowing away the RPG.

"Anya, keep an eye out for where they cast new wards," Nathaniel told the girl. "That's where Ignovich will be, the coward likes being in the safest place possible."

"Got it."

As the group reached deeper into the compound, resistance started to show up, mix of gunfire and spells flying through the air at them. Everyone took cover as Nathaniel cast a Shield Charm, absorbing the first few blows to buy precious seconds for the slower ones to find cover. Soon, there was a firefight ongoing as both bullets and spells were exchanged. Anya and Jen kept close together, with Anya at the front firing deadly accurate shots with her Makarov while Jen stuck at her back with his wand, maintain his own Shield Charm as he covered what little blind spots Anya had with the suppressive fire of his own pistol. Another shot from Anya nicked a peeking foe who was sticking his head from behind a wall in the eye, a spurt off crimson gushing out from the socket. Though Ignovich's men tried to put up a stiff resistance, Nathaniel's men gained ground quickly, quality beating quantity to a pulp. In the end, the fight was decided when Nathaniel took heavy action.

"_Accio grenade pins!_"

A flick of his wand had multiple grenade pins flying from Ignovich's men to him, beckoned by the Summoning Charm. With a swift wave of his wand, the pins were transfigured into hornets which changed directions, darting high and low around the walls to Ignovich's men.

Supplemented with a Blasting Curse of his own, the synchronised explosion had Anya's ears ringing. Nathaniel calmly walked forward, transfiguring the rubbles made by his Blasting Curse into a pack of feral dogs, which began running down the opposing men. At this point, the slow retreat of Ignovich's men had crumbled into a full-fledged rout, men scrambling over one another to escape the transfigured dogs and hornets.

"Nathaniel, I see new wards," Anya called out as she was strands of magic burst out, surrounding a building in the distance. "Two o'clock. The building with the chimney beside it."

"Understood," Nathaniel replied, before rallying the group. "Everyone, on me. Move!"

The group followed Nathaniel's lead, running through the compound's alleyways and bypassing walls with Reductor Curses. They ended up at a small office building beside a warehouse, trucks still parked at its loading bay. A quick spell from Nathaniel and Anya's sight both confirmed the presence of wards, which gave Vlad the cue to bring forth his RPG-7D. One black fireball later and they were through the wards, Nathaniel casting sealing spells to ensure Ignovich stayed trapped in the building.

"Anya, check for last minute wards."

"Second floor, third window from the left, newly cast."

Nathaniel grunted in response, blasting the building door open with his wand. Everyone filtered into the building, guns and wands pointing at every corner, checking for enemies. When the first room was clear, they began moving up the stairs. The formation was the same as usual, guns on the front, wands on the rear. The first stairway door opened and the sound of two cracks filled the air, one each from Igor and Zahir's rifles. A body crumpled on to the floor as the bullets ripped into his chest, wand rolling away from his hand.

"Tripwire mine, at the door," Anya warned as the door to the second floor opened, her right eye picking out the near invisible cord stretched taut across the doorway. "No magical modifications, purely Muggle."

A Freezing Charm from Nathaniel disabled the trap and the group proceeded, keeping close to the walls of the corridor. Finally, they came across the warded room Anya had spotted, an invisible solid barrier halting their progress.

"Jen," Nathaniel said, ushering the Chinese boy forward.

Jen crept forward with his wand drawn and began prodding the ward, slowly deciphering its sequence and construct. Less than a minute and the hastily propped up ward that Ignovich or his men had cast was dismantled, the only obstruction left being the door.

"Twenty seconds, Jen," Nathaniel mused, allowing Jen a small grin of pride. "That's a new record."

"_Ostavaytes' na meste_(Stay where you are)!" a panicked scream came from behind the door. "_Tseloye mesto zapolneno magicheskimi vzryvchatymi veshchestvami. Yesli ty voydesh', ya ikh vzorvu_.(The whole place is filled with magical explosives. If you enter, I will blow them up.)"

Nathaniel cocked her head to Anya who shook her, literally seeing through the man's bluff. Nathaniel pointed his wand at the door and opened it, another spell at the cabinets lining the corridor transfigured them into feral dogs which rushed into the room. As the screams reached a high, Nathaniel burst into the room, everyone else at his back. A Shield Charm was Nathaniel's first spell as the front man, blocking bullets and curses from those not pinned down by the dogs. Sharp bursts of gunfire from Igor and Zahir riddled many of Ignovich's men with bullets, their bodies dancing like marionettes as the bullets entered their bodies. Severing Charms from Anya and Jen opened the necks of a few men, while a powerful Knockback Jinx from Vlad sent a tall, stooping man flying at the wall.

The sole survivor – the tall, stooping man Vlad had sent to the wall – slid onto the ground, his hands struggling to support himself. His feeble attempt to raise his wand was blocked by a Disarming Charm from Vlad. A Summoning Charm from Nathaniel had the man's other weapons flying out from his coat, knives, pistol and a lethal syringe.

"_Ignovich_," Nathaniel said pleasantly, looking down at the man. "_Davno ne videlis'_(Long time no see)."

"_Borzaya,_" the man spat. "_Chto ty khochesh' na etot raz_(What do you want this time)?"

"_Informatsiya_(Information)," Nathaniel said with a grin. "_Posmotri pravde v glaza, starik, igra okonchena_(Face it, old man, the game is over)."

"_Eto ne verno_(It's not true)!" Ignovich screamed in detail, trying to claw up to his feet. "_Sistema khoroshaya, sistema ideal'naya_(The system is good, the system is perfect)!"

"_Eto bolezn'_(It's a disease)." Nathaniel said stoically as he planted his boot on the man's face, sending him back on the floor. "_Menya udivlyayet, naskol'ko ty slep_(It surprises me how blind you are)."

"_Vy nazyvayete svoyego deda slepym? U nego bylo takoye zhe videniye_.(Do you call your grandfather blind? He had the same vision.)"

The silver haired man pointed his wand at Ignovich.

"_Crucio._"

Ignovich writhed on the bloodstained floor as the curse worked it magic. It was a few minutes before Nathaniel finally lifted the curse.

"_Imperio. Legilimens_."

Ignovich's eyes glazed over for seconds before coming back to focus, forcing a look of surprise from Nathaniel.

"I didn't think you had it in you, coward," Nathaniel muttered under his breath. "_Poskol'ku vy ne khotite govorit', my sdelayem eto tak_(Since you do not want to talk, we will do it like this)."

"_Veritaserum?_" Ignovich suggested weakly.

Nathaniel shook his head and nodded to Vlad, who grabbed a suitcase from his magically expanded bag. The suitcase was opened to reveal an assortment of vials filled with potions and powders, two IV bags and a set of surgical tools.

"_Pozhaluysta, prosto ispol'zuyte Veritaserum_(Please just use Veritaserum)," the pale-faced man pleaded as he saw the suitcase.

"_Veritaserum ogranichen tem, chto sprashivayut_(Veritaserum is limited to what is asked)," Nathaniel said calmly as he pulled a chair for himself. "_Pytki pobuzhdayut lyudey govorit' ne tol'ko o tom, chto ikh prosyat_(Torture encourages people to talk not only about what they are being asked)."

Tears began to leak out of the man eyes as he croaked out in heavily accented English, "I'll speak."

"Speaking in English does not endear you to me in any form," Nathaniel said coldly, taking a sit in front of the man. "Vlad, shall we start with lysergic acid diethylamide and scalpel?"

The gaunt man nodded grabbed a vial, measuring its contents into an IV bag. When that was done, he reached for a scalpel with his other hand and approached a trembling Ignovich. Anya and Jen stood in a corner watching, Jen had his eyes partially averted but Anya had no such compulsions, though she did narrow her eyes in disgust.

_Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life._

She was itching for an Invigoration Draught.

"Frankly, I take no pleasure in this, maybe Vlad does," Nathaniel said, leaning back on his chair. "But I can be quite sure I'll be here for a long time. And since we are here in this festive time, allow me to say: Merry Yule."

**XXXXX**

**December 1994**

Preparations for the Yule Ball seemed to be in full swing, ice and snow fashionably adorned the Great Hall, giving it the appearance of a winter wonderland. There was also a great deal of excitement among the students from all three schools, their own last minute preparations going underway.

When the day came though, the level of ongoing preparations in the Slytherin girls' dorm exploded tenfold. Personally, Anya found all this frivolity unnecessary, but when Astoria and Davis tugged her sleeves with pleading looks in their eyes, she relented. After all, one of the reasons she agreed to come here was to relax from the routines that had become so ingrained in her life, what better way to relax than to join in the cheerful festivities? Nathaniel was probably right, she ought to take the opportunity to act like a girl her age.

"Come on, Anya!" Astoria squealed. "I wanna see what dress you're going to wear for the Ball."

"You're going to see it during the Ball regardless," Anya smiled as the second-year dragged her to the dorms where most of the girls had started preparing for the Ball.

"Tori, I see you've finally brought our champion to begin fulfilling her role," the elder Greengrass remarked, halfway through applying her makeup. Anya's friendship with the elder Greengrass' boyfriend and younger sister had paved the way for friendly relations.

"I thought my role as champion was to compete in the Tournament?" Anya quipped, digging into her trunk for the dress robes that Nathaniel had gotten her.

"No, your role as champion now is to look pretty for the Ball," Davis said excitedly.

"I think I preferred the original role," Anya said jokingly as she pulled out the packaging

"In society, it's the popular opinion that's more important," Astoria said, eyes alight with anticipation as she saw the wrapped packaging. "Hurry up, Anya, I want to see."

With an exasperated sigh, Anya gently opened the packaging, revealing the dress inside. There were days where Anya could swear that Nathaniel came from an upper class Pureblood family, this was one of them.

"Sweet Merlin," Astoria squealed. "That's beautiful."

It was an elegant white dress, made of radiant satin that seemed impossibly smooth. Around the dress, floral patterns were woven artfully into the cloth, it wasn't excessive, just enough for people to notice. The long sleeves and high cut design did a wonderful job of covering up her various scars. There were no frills or loose pieces, everything was meant to fit snugly on her body, both to accentuate her curves and allow ease of movement. Nathaniel never lost his sense of practicality.

There were glass shoes, diamond earrings and necklace to go along with the dress, though she did recognise the necklace as one that belonged to a corrupt Russian ministry official. Old man Grey probably restricted the budget on her dress, not that she minded. The silver cuffs that were part of the package also did a clever job of hiding the runic script on her wrist. The whole set was simple yet elegant, Nathaniel's style.

At the bottom of the package there was a small note, Anya picked it up and read through it.

_Hope you are having fun, missing you. Send pictures._

_-D & J_

Anya smiled fondly making a mental note to do so, but the incessant chattering of Astoria and Davis forced her attention back on preparing for the Ball. Soon, Anya had to go through a three hour long preparation regime. She would rather spend her time doing something else, but she decided to take it in stride with a smile, she was supposed to relax after all.

"Yes! I get to do up your hair," Astoria chirped, holding onto a hairbrush. "You always wear your hair in that same old ponytail, it'll be nice to see your hair in another style."

"Simple is good."

"Not for a ball it isn't."

She looked at the mirror and saw a new sight. This was probably the first time she wore her hair in anything but her signature low ponytail. Her hair was twisted into an elegant braid and this was also probably the first time makeup had ever found its way to her face. The makeup had been light, she insisted on it – much to the annoyance of Astoria – but she couldn't deny that the mascara and lipstick did a good job enhancing her looks.

"Now for the dress!" Astoria clapped, reaching for the dress Nathaniel got for her, she leaned to Anya and whispered. "Where are you going to keep that pistol of yours in this dress?"

"I'm not, Professor Moody and that eye of his will be there," Anya whispered back.

"Alright, but remember, I want to try using it sometime soon."

When all was done, the girls examined Anya's bearing for any discrepancies.

"Absolutely striking," Astoria said enviously. "Too bad only fourth-years and above are allowed to the Yule Ball."

Anya made her way to the common room where Zabini, Nott and Daphne were waiting.

"Damn it, Seryy," Zabini said with a pout as see saw the raven-haired girl. "Why do you have to make me regret my choices."

Everyone laughed and began making their way to the Great Hall, Nott and Daphne in each other's arms. Zabini separated halfway to head to the Durmstrang ship to pick up his date.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, Anya's partner was there waiting for her. He was tall, average looking, but his confidence, grace and poise more than made up for that, he carried himself well. In his light-blue dress robes - school pride, Anya suspected - he strode over to Anya and bowed, taking her hand to his lips.

"Ms Seryy, a pleasure and an honour," he spoke with an accent.

"Likewise," Anya replied, hoping that she never had to say his name tonight, she really did forgot her partner's name.

"All the champions and their partners are here?" Professor McGonagall asked as she surveyed the group. "Very well, you may all proceed. Pair by pair into the Great Hall, everyone is waiting for the opening of the Ball."

Anya took a quick look at the champions. Krum was with Hermione, who really cleaned up well in Anya's opinion. Delacour went with a seventh-year who Anya guessed to be the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain. Cedric was with - to Zabini's prior disappointment - Cho Chang. The other Junior Champions, Poitiers and Dulovo, followed Jen's route and went with partners from different schools. Harry and Cedric were the only champions to take a partner from their own school, with Harry going out with one of the Patil twins.

As the champions entered the Great Hall, they stared in mesmerised awe at the decorations in place. It seem to be snowing and the chandeliers were carved from ice, the candles adorning it lighting the Hall in a warm glow.

Anya's partner turned to her with a smile.

"Merry Yule."

"Merry Yule," Anya replied.

* * *

**AN: In line with Anya's last words, a (very early one though, because I'll definitely forget when it actually comes) Happy Holidays to all of you. And of course, a big thank you to those who have been sticking along this ride. Some fics do the pairings at the Yule Ball, but Anya's pairing (if any) still has a long way to come. I've already got the entire story, years 4-7+, 'sketched out' but pairing is still something that is undecided. Let me know your thoughts and reviews always help.**


	10. Chapter 10 - Yule Part 3

Chapter 10 – Yule Part 3

Rosemary and thyme. Salt and pepper. Seasoned to perfection and slowly cooked until butter knife tender. The succulent lamb roast Anya was eating tasted simply marvellous, the house-elves in Hogwarts were really going all out for the Yule Ball. There was chatter all over the Great Hall as people made new friends or simply hung out with old ones.

When the meal ended and the dances started, everyone was eager to begin. Anya's Beauxbatons partner was simply bounding with anticipation as he ushered Anya onto the dance floor, Andre Lannes was his name, she managed to pick that snippet up during her meal. Once again, Anya was glad she chose a Beauxbatons partner, not only was the conversation simple and easy due to a language barrier but he – like most of the other Beauxbatons students – knew how to dance very well.

Hogwarts had offered last minute dancing lessons to all students from the fourth-year and above, but it seemed more like an entertainment session for the Purebloods who were already taught dancing from young and a torture session for majority of the Muggleborns and Half-bloods who were fumbling their way through. Zabini even had the audacity to sneak in the popcorn he had procured from a Muggle store before the term started, keeping them preserved with a Stasis Charm.

Once again, this was one of the times Anya swore Nathaniel came from a Pureblood family, dancing and etiquette had been part of the training she and the others had received, much to all their confusion as they never really used it. Here, she let her Beauxbatons partner take the lead, moving along to the beat of the music and actually taking the time to enjoy the melodious movements she was going through.

"By the way, Ms Seryy," Lannes said as they did another spin. "Fleur has requested that you meet her tomorrow morning, at the Beauxbatons carriage."

"She got the golden egg figured out?" Anya asked.

"It appears so."

Anya cast an eye at the French Champion, seeing the part-Veela dance along with a drooling Ravenclaw.

"Very well. Thank you, Mr Lannes."

"The least I could do," he flashed a dazzling smile.

Soon, the two agreed to separate to find their friends, going to opposite ends of the Great Hall. She passed by a dancing Nott and Greengrass, reaching an empty seat in the corner and settled down with a drink in hand.

"Well what's our dear champion doing all by herself?" a familiar mocking voice reached her ears.

"Enjoying the scene," she replied smoothly, looking at the approaching Zabini. "Really now, Zabini? Two?"

The charming Slytherin had a girl in each of his arms, both of them giggling giddily.

"What's wrong with that?" he shrugged nonchalantly. "The more the merrier."

"Say that with a straight face the next time you end up in the Hospital Wing."

The sound of a click and flash caught Anya's attention and she saw Collin Creevey wandering around with his camera, a grumpy looking fourth-year Hufflepuff – his unfortunate date presumably – following her. Seeing the camera, she remembered something.

"Creevey," Anya called out, waving at the Gryffindor. "Mind taking a picture? I'll gladly pay you for the photos."

The third-year's face split into a wide grin as he ambled over, preparing his camera.

"No problem Seryy, I'll do it for free," he said happily. "It's a hobby after all."

"A hobby he priorities over his date," Zabini muttered quietly to Anya. "Of course a filthy Mudblood would behave like this."

"Okay," Anya ignored the Slytherin's words. "I want mine by the end of this week if that's possible."

However, Zabini would never say no to a free photograph and agreed to have a picture taken. Anya, Zabini and the two Durmstrang girls stood in front of the camera, smiles on their face as the flash went off.

"Nice," Creevey exclaimed. "Seryy, how about a photo with Harry!? Hogwarts champions taking a group photo. I can't find Cedric though."

Before Anya could respond, the bubbly Gryffindor went over to a nearby table and began speaking to Harry. Harry seemed all too glad to have an excuse to leave the table, the irate and sulky Weasley behind him being a possible reason to his compliance.

"So Seryy, Hogwarts champions photo, huh?" Harry inquired, trying to relax himself into a smile.

"Nah, it was Creevey's idea," said Anya as she watch the young Gryffindor prepare his camera for another shot. "I didn't mind having a souvenir for tonight's event. Maybe we ought to get Diggory here?"

"No need to," Harry said quickly, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Anya scanned through the crowd of dancers and picked up the Hufflepuff quickly, he was dancing with a smiling Cho Chang. It appears Zabini wasn't the only one who wanted to go out with the Ravenclaw, although Zabini did handle the rejection much better than Harry.

"Alright then. Creevey, fire away."

Creevey grinned as he pressed the shutter button and a flash went off once more. The two siblings stood side by side, one in a white dress, the other in green robes. Both of them had smiles on their faces as their identical emerald-green eyes wrinkled in festive joy.

They may have felt a little awkward, which they did, being shoved in for a photo by Creevey. However, if one were to look at the photos that Collin Creevey would soon produce, with the Gryffindor photographer handing Anya hers a few days later, the two siblings looked completely at ease and natural standing beside each other. As though they have been doing this for ages.

**XXXXX**

Anya stood outside the Beauxbatons carriage, waiting patiently. She did not mind waiting, being a user of a sniper rifle had taught her that it was alright to wait. She had waited for days in a swamp under heavy torturous rain for the opportunity to take a shot, this was comfortable by comparison.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms Seryy," the part-Veela's rich throaty voice filled the air. "But let us begin our discussion, _oui_?"

Anya nodded, turning to face Fleur.

"So, the Second Task. You figured out the golden egg?"

Fleur lips shifted into a smug smile as she set her hard-fought golden egg on the floor. She drew her wand and rapped the egg smartly, which opened. Inside the egg, it was completely hollow, but the walls within the egg were carved with line after line of magical formulas and runes. Numbers, letters and symbols adorned the walls.

"You are supposed to decipher all these?" Anya asked, inspecting the runes. "You could have asked me to help."

"_Non_," Fleur said, shaking her head. "Much of this is too complex for a fourth-year student, some of these runes are not taught until sixth-year, and the Arithmancy sequences are beyond the schooling syllabus."

"Yeah, okay," Anya said a little tartly. "So what did you figure out?"

Fleur took out pieces of parchment and showed them to Anya. Anya grabbed them and took a look, they were filled with various numbers, sketches and phrases.

"The first one I figured out is this," Fleur pointed to a parchment with a rough sketch of lines and curves, with dots and shadings here and there. Upon closer inspection, the entire sketch was made up of tiny numbers. "I deciphered the main Arithmancy figures and came to this."

"It's a map," Anya had seen Arithmancy-encoded information before, deciphering them was usually Jen's job, hers was doing the runic counterparts.

"_Oui_," Fleur nodded. "But of where, I do not know. But it must be the location of the Second Task."

"Forbidden Forest."

"_Je vous demande pardon_?"

"The area boundaries on this side of the map exactly matches the treeline on the northwest side of the Hogwarts grounds," Anya said, recalling her walk with Astoria. She always took the opportunity to observe her surroundings closely whenever possible. "If these curves indicate roads and streams, then it also matches the pathways and streams I've seen entering the Forbidden Forest."

"Then what are the other dots and shadings on the map mean?"

"Beats me," Anya shrugged. "Possibly denser vegetation, magical traps or even nesting grounds of whatever the Forbidden Forest hides."

"Very well, then there is also this," Fleur pointed to the next piece of parchment that she had worked out. It was a line of runes, written in the Frenchwoman's cursive script.

"Twelve Labours of Heracles," Anya muttered as she read the runes.

"_Oui_, the runes that formed this was scattered throughout the egg, I had to use various Arithmancy techniques to find them," Fleur shifted her finger to the number she wrote next to the runes. "When I inspected the locations of each individual runes, I realised that they formed the number three multiple times, if you connected each rune as a dot. Too many times to be coincidence"

"The third labour?"

"Correct Seryy, capture the Ceryneian Hind. I expect that we have to some creature to catch or maybe a conjured magical entity instead."

"The next question is," Anya mused. "Are there three teams or four? It won't be fair for everyone else if Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter worked together. But it wouldn't be fair for the Durmstrang Junior Champion to support two teams simultaneously."

"Did the Hogwarts Champions work together for the First Task?" Fleur's question was an answer itself.

"Poor Dulovo, this is much harder for him if all champions do this task at the same time."

"Indeed," the part-Veela agreed. "But we digress."

Fleur shuffled through the parchments to pick out another piece.

"This one was the easiest to decipher: the old catches, the young protects."

"So each team has their own 'Ceryneian Hind' and has to catch the other teams 'Ceryneian Hind'?" Anya concluded. "Champions are to catch, Junior Champions are to protect?"

"That seems to be the case, although there are still many unknown variables. Is this 'Ceryneian Hind' a stationary entity or does it move on its own? What are the Junior Champions allowed to do in order to protect?"

"What the plan then, Delacour?"

"The main problem is whether or not duelling is allowed. Seryy, are you good in duelling?" Fleur asked doubtfully, eyeing the younger girl as though inspecting her for any flaws.

"Good enough."

"I would recommend practicing a little on duelling just in case. Other than that, you could read up on some Charms or Transfiguration spells that may aid you in setting up defences. Or maybe runes too, I've heard of your work in the First Task from my friends."

"I'll have it covered," Anya said in assurance. "What about you?"

"Forgive me Seryy," Fleur said with a haughty smile. "Since I would rather have a Beauxbatons victory in this Triwizard Tournament, I cannot risk having you know my plans and possibly leaking them out to the Hogwarts Champions."

"So much for international cooperation," Anya laughed. "Though that is fair, I expect all the other Champions to have this mentality. You're already giving me a lot of information to work with, explaining what the Second Task could involve. Personally, I were your shoes and I wanted to completely keep this under wraps, I would just tell you what to do without any explanation whatsoever."

"Well, I would rather have my partner in this task know what she is supposed to do," Fleur said breezily as she stowed away her pieces of parchment and the egg. "Furthermore, I've seen the Hogwarts Champions. I can completely trust them to be honourable and follow the rules-"

"And not tell me a single thing as I'm not their partner for this task," Anya finished her sentence with an easy grin. "I expect that you informed Poitiers of this before me."

"Well, as much as how I would rather be the one to win the Tournament, I do want a Beauxbatons victory at the end."

"Completely understandable. Well, if that is all, I suppose I should get started on the preparations?"

Nodding her head, Fleur turned about and returned to the Beauxbatons carriage, leaving Anya to herself.

**XXXXX**

"Well, I suppose that's all there is to the golden egg," Hermione sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Merlin, this thing is a challenge to crack."

"Thanks Hermione, you're a lifesaver," Harry grinned, looking at all the clues that Hermione had managed to siphon off the golden egg. Looking at what he had to do though, it was much less dangerous than facing off the Hungarian Horntail. Whoever had placed his name in the Goblet would not be getting his hopes up in having Harry killed in this Second Task. Compared to a dragon's claws, tails and fiery breath, a huge game of Capture the Flag but with moving flags was a lot tamer. Granted, the other champions were still a threat, as Ron had so adamantly pointed out.

"Remember what Sirius said," Ron reminded Harry. "You're gonna have to watch out for the Durmstrang champions, who knows what Dark Magic Karkaroff would have taught them? Can we even trust that Dulovo guy?"

"Ron!" Hermione admonished the red-head. "The whole point of having the Junior Champions be partners with other schools for some of the tasks is to foster international relations, trust is essential."

"I'm just saying mate," Ron replied, holding his hands up in surrender. "The whole Durmstrang lot seems shady."

"Alright," said Hermione wearily as she looked through what she had gathered from the golden egg. "Let's go through this logically. You should be safe from the other Champions, they'll be busy doing their own catching. It's the Junior Champions that you have to watch out for, so let's start with the Beauxbatons Junior Champion, what do we know about him? The First Task can be a good indication for his abilities."

"Other than being a great chef? Nothing," said Ron bluntly, causing Harry to snigger.

"There's more than that," said Hermione sharply. "He has to be adept in Potions to create an obscure potion that enhances the smell of foods. And the bag the Beauxbatons' Champion was carrying for the First Task had been magically expanded as well, so Charms is possibly another one of his aces."

"Potions and Charms," Harry mused. "Shouldn't be too bad."

"It's the Slytherin you got to watch out for," Ron pointed out.

That was definitely true, comparing the French and Russian Junior Champions, the later gave a more lasting impression of being dangerous. The incident with Crabbe and Goyle was clear evidence to that. On top off that, she had been the only one besides Harry himself to throw off the Imperius Curse in Moody's class.

"We should expect some runic defence from her," Hermione theorised. "Her item during the First Task was incredible. I heard from Professor McGonagall that she excels in Transfiguration too, so expect that too."

"It wasn't that fancy," said Ron dismissively.

"But that was a high-level application of Runes, Ron," Hermione exclaimed. "Runes capable of creating and reacting with magic – Active Runes – are not even taught until NEWTs. OWL-level studies of Runes only involve translation and theory."

"So I go for the one Poitiers is defending first?" said Harry thoughtfully. "Then if that works out, I go for others?"

"Sounds about it," Hermione concluded.

**XXXXX**

The soft thumps of Anya's magically silenced pistol filled Astoria's ears, she looked on as the elder Slytherin fired round after round precisely into the levitating water balloons that acted as makeshift targets. They were at a secluded corner of the Hogwarts grounds, hidden by bushes and trees.

"You see the posture? Feet apart, left foot forward and body bent a little forward. Never lean backwards," Anya explained as she maintained her stance. "You can extend your arms to a comfortable position but don't lock your elbows. Firm grip on the pistol, lock your wrist."

Anya handed her Makarov to the excited girl and ushered her forward in encouragement. Astoria mimicked Anya's stance and lifted the pistol, peering through the sights. She was taught the basics of operating this Muggle device a few minutes ago and found it to be very simple. There was no complex formulas or theories involved like a curse, you simply slide in a box of what Anya called 'bullets' into the device, 'cock' the thing by pulling the top part of it and then you simply pulled on the lever to fire. With this, even a child could kill a person.

"Turn off the safety then align the sights," Anya instructed. "Once you got that, slowly pull the trigger. Trigger pull is important in a good aim, the pistol shouldn't be moving when you pull. Control your breathing too, rule of thumb is shoot when you finished exhaling."

Astoria focused on the water balloon in front of her and took aim, trying to calm down her excited breathing.

"That's not controlling your breathing," Anya remarked plainly as she took out small pieces of wood and began etching them with sigils and runes.

"I'm trying, I'm trying."

Slowly, she placed her finger on the trigger and began to pull. When the propellant ignited, the recoil – though mostly absorbed by magic – took her by surprise, causing her to let out a small gasp. Twenty feet away, a red water balloon ruptured.

"Wow," said Astoria softly. "Just like that."

"Just like that," Anya nodded, keeping an eye on the girl while she worked on her pieces of wood. "Even a child could use it."

Anya took out a small box from her robes, it was the size of an earring box. She drew her wand and enlarged it, opening the box revealed rows of bullets ready to be used.

"It's a weekend and we have the time," Anya told the younger Slytherin. "You wanted to try out the pistol. Use it to your heart's content."

Astoria let out a wide grin as she went back to the water balloons, raising the pistol once more. Soon, the thumps of the pistol became a constant as Astoria emptied magazine after magazine. She had to admit it, Muggles really did know how to invent interesting things. Maybe they were not as bad as what her family and friends made them to be.

"This is kind of refreshing actually," Astoria exclaimed as she returned the pistol back to Anya. "I didn't think that Muggles can come up with this. Without using magic too."

"You'd be surprised at what Muggles know that wizards don't," said Anya absentmindedly, carving another rune on a wooden block.

"And what are you doing?" Astoria peeked over Anya's shoulders to see what the older girl was doing. "Is that preparation for the Second Task?"

"Yep."

"You figured out what's going on?" Astoria asked smilingly. "Care to share?"

"Sworn to secrecy."

"Prat."

"Relax, Astoria, the Task is just a game of Capture the Flag."

"Can you tell me what you're doing?"

Anya passed over one of her finished wooden blocks for Astoria to inspect. It was completely carved in runes and a slight tremor of magic could be felt. Drawing her wand, Anya turned the wooden block into a swiftlet, which began to fly in circles above the pair.

"That's pretty," Astoria commented, eyeing the bird which still bore the same runic markings as its original form. "But what does it do?"

"I was impressed by Potter's performance in the First Task," Anya explained. "And then I realised that there are three top-notch Quidditch players among the Champions, the only who isn't is paired we me. Needless to say, I do not wish for any of them to go use a broomstick for this Task."

"So Anti-broomstick spells embedded in the runes? And transfigured into birds to follow Diggory, Potter and Krum." Astoria was now closely inspecting the runes of another wooden block Anya had finished carving. "You really inspire me to take up Runes next year. Maybe I should take the same electives as you, Muggle Studies and Runes."

"Let me ask you a question," said Astoria curiously, looking at the pistol still by Anya's side. "If Muggle weaponry and technology is so good, why didn't you use them to aid the Champions in the First Task?"

It had been very tempting to just do that during the First Task. The runic distraction Anya made was the second idea she came up with. Her first idea that came to mind involved Transfiguration, Strengthening Solution and batch of thermite or explosives. Or maybe, she could have pulled off a Nathaniel, hijacking a fighter jet from the nearest military airbase to combat an enraged dragon. However, it was general consensus among the Spooks not to blatantly give up their cards to normal wizards.

"Use highly dangerous equipment made by Muggles in a highly publicised event?" Anya laughed, shaking her head. "The press will have a field day and the Purebloods in the Ministry will start sharpening their knives. I'd rather keep the Muggle tools to myself."

"Keeping an advantage to yourself?"

"Aren't you in Slytherin?"

"True," Astoria chuckled. "What else do you have planned?"

"Nothing much really, I'm in charge of defending" Anya shrugged as she set down a finished wooden block and picked up another one. She reapplied dragon's blood – procured on request as a Junior Champion – on her silver knife and continued her carving. "Maybe a few wards and the rest will probably go down to duelling with the Champions if that's allowed."

"You can duel?"

"Well, I've been in fights."

The watch on Anya's wrist indicated that dinner was approaching and she ended the conversation, reminding Astoria that they should probably head back to the castle. Packing her things, she took note of the box that was now half empty. She did the math in her head, Astoria used up ten magazines, that was eighty rounds. Astoria really didn't hold back when told to fire the pistol to her heart's content, Anya was going to have to write a letter back home asking for ammunition. Thankfully, Filch didn't know what bullets were.

Days went by as the Second Task edged nearer and nearer. Anya had spent a great deal of time sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest, not the part of it where the Second Task was going to be held, there was a good chance that place was crawling with Tournament officials and protective wards. She simply needed to acclimatise herself to the environment and build back her physical strength. She did go out for physical training once every week, it was a regimentation she enforced on herself, but when there's schoolwork to do, she could not afford the time to go on ten mile treks while carrying a full equipment load. Furthermore, the Forbidden Forest was a good place to practice her combat spells away from prying eyes.

"_Diffindo._"

A swift flick of her wand lopped off the heads of two dummy figures she had transfigured. She had two dozen of them scattered throughout the area, charmed to move about, albeit not gracefully but rather in a drunken robotic fashion. The practice was simple, release the dummies and give them a five minutes head start, following which she proceeded to hunt them down. Even though she was tasked to defend whatever it was that the Tournament came up with, training with Vlad had ingrained her with the idea that offense is the best defence.

Sprinting through the woods, the trees on her periphery became a slight blur as she darted around, easily avoiding the barely noticeable potholes and protruding roots as she moved. Her eyes took in all the details of her surroundings, the tripping hazards, far away dummies and their trails left behind in the forest marked clearly by her right eye. The prints on the snow, an overturned stone on the ground and even the scraped bark on the tree trunk, all these were flashing traffic signs in Anya's eyes.

"_Stupefy_."

The final spell tagged the stumbling dummy on the back, which toppled onto the ground. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she sat down on the ground and took a moment to catch her breath. After which, Anya went about cleaning up any traces that she had been there, reverting the dummies back to logs and repairing any noticeable damage on the trees. Nathaniel had been adamant in teaching his protégés to keep their tracks clean when necessary, a practice she continued here.

When the clean-up was done, she did a final check on her belongings before making her way back to the castle. A quick trip to her dorms for a shower and change of clothes had Anya refreshed and hungry for breakfast.

"Morning Seryy," Zabini greeted her as she took a seat beside him. "You've got an owl waiting for you."

The dark-skinned boy nodded his head to a tawny owl which had a letter attached to its leg, Anya plucked the letter from the owl and looked at it. It had her name on it, but the handwriting was familiar. She opened it and looked at the paper inside.

_Greetings Anya. Watch out for our arrival to Britain, for we all miss you dearly. Danger in Russia has been at an all-time high but that's to be expected. Class has been well I take it? Ten of us back in Russia are wishing you the best for the Triwizard Tournament. Items that you wanted we have purchased and are sending over. Moved Nikolai to his new home yesterday, from the effort it took, Russia always reminds us of its vast size. To think that Greg always said Russia was small. Britain must be a nice place, beware the gnomes there though. Of Tournament tips just remember your stances of Stand, Crouch, and Prone as stances can always help you in a duel. Also, safe winds. Home is where your heart is, ready for the next challenge._

The letter seemed fine and dandy, which meant it was absolute nonsense. Anya scanned through the letter again, cycling through the various codes they used until something logical came up. Something did and it had Dimitri written all over it, the code was crude and easily deciphered but Anya couldn't be bothered.

Anya read through the letter in mild concern, she certainly did not expect a Triwizard Tournament official to be importing highly illegal magical ingredients and components, most of which are used in dark rituals. Hoping dearly that those were for his personal use rather than for the Tournament, Anya kept the letter and pondered for a while. Mr Crouch, she was going to have to be careful of him.

**XXXXX**

"That's the last of them," Jen muttered as he pulled out the magazine from his rifle – a standard AK-47 – and inspected the remaining bullets. There was none, his stowed it in one of the pouches on his ballistic vest and loaded a fresh magazine into the rifle. The sulfurous smell of gunfire still permeated the air, so did the smell of charred furniture.

"Looks like it," Dimitri called out from the other end of the room, his wand drawn. He was busy vanishing the blood from the floors and walls. "Ten Muggles, three wizards, one of which was probably a Spook. Correct?"

"That's what I counted too."

They were in the Russian suburbs, inside a house that was suspected of storing high value magical items. Currently, the two boys were finishing their clean-up of the kitchen. Bullet casings, shattered plates and bullet-ridden pots littered the floor, awaiting Dimitri to vanish them. The bodies had already been cleaned up and stowed in bags.

"Just the basement left?" Jen asked as he inspected the photos hanging on the pink walls, they showed the typical happy family posed in front of the porch.

"Yep," the Russian replied. "It's empty though, _Homenum Revelio_-ed it a minute ago. I think the only thing left are the wards."

Jen slung his rifle and drew his wand. "Very well, shall we?"

The pair began their work on the wards blocking entry to the basement, muttering incantations softly. Half a minute later and the wards broke, Jen opened the door and Dimitri began casting sensory spells down the stairway, checking for any traps or dangerous creatures.

"It's more or less, clear," Dimitri declared, beginning to walk down the stairs with Jen on his tail.

"Sure wish Crow was with us."

"Of course you would," Dimitri chuckled. "But she's a thousand miles away in Scotland now."

"_Lumos_."

Light flooded out of Jen's wand, illuminating the basement in a warm glow. Boxes filled the basement, many of them plastered with tags and labels. One particular box stood out to the pair, it had a long roll of parchment wrapped around it multiple times like a bandage, sigils and runes written on the parchment.

"Sure wish Anya was here to check this script," Dimitri cast a spell to check for any nasty surprises, nothing bad turned up. "Runes are her thing, she's the only person I know who's mad enough to do the rune carving on her own body herself, I needed Vlad to pin me down to get my runes on."

"In her defence, her runes are better than even Nathaniel's, and Grey doesn't do runic tattoos on us," Jen said as he inspected the symbols on the parchment, it was written in blood. "Try doing the feats of strength, agility and dexterity she does when she activates those runes, you can't. By the way, do you think it's safe to open this? You don't normally see a box sealed in blood runes, could be something bad."

"Then we better start erecting solid wards before we open this."

For the next ten minutes, the pair prepared temporary wards, carving out most of the basement walls in magical formulas. Once everything was set, the two stood a good fifteen feet away from the sealed box, hovering close to the staircase. Dimitri took aim and red sparks shot out from his wand, ripping open the parchment wrapped around the box and launching the cover of the box open. The wooden lid flipped open onto the floor with a loud clatter before an anticlimactic silence took over.

"That was underwhelming," Dimitri grumbled. "I thought there was a boggart in there, could have had some fun with it."

Jen edged closer to the box, wand at the ready. Peering over the box, he inhaled sharply at the sight.

"Not that underwhelming, Dim," Jen said. "Look at this."

Eyebrows furrowed, Dimitri walked over and took a look at the contents, whistling when he laid his eyes on them.

"_Cyka blyat_," Dimitri muttered, shifting through the contents of the box. "We've got a dark wizard on the loose. Human heart, Basilisk venom... all four humors of a succubus and a hag... Unicorn blood, Mandrake roots... vials of whatever-the-hell-this-is... is that a jar of fucking _ovaries_!? That's a fucking impressive ingredients package for a dark ritual."

"The Whites are really pulling the damn strings to assemble this," Jen said. "You need more than galleons to purchase this, you need favours, connections or allegiance. Who's got the Whites this deep in their pockets?"

"Check the box for any labels," Dimitri said sharply. The two sprang into action, inspecting every corner of the box for clues to its receiver.

"Arithmancy codes here," Dimitri called out as he scanned the lid on the box that they removed minutes ago. "This is all yours, Jen."

Jen grabbed the lid from Dimitri, inspecting the string of numbers and symbols. He transcribed a copy of the number on a piece of paper just in case the original on the lid got ruined. Wand in hand, he began decoding the numbers on the lid, figures unfolding and spreading on the wooden surface. The numbers slowly expanded in length until four sets of numbers and letters were produced.

"GPS coordinates," Dimitri observed. "This definitely has a Spook involved, no normal wizards encodes destinations with GPS coordinates and Muggles can't do Arithmancy. Four results though, which one is it?"

Already punching in the results in his GPS, Jen took a look at the possibilities.

"First one ends up in the middle of nowhere in Mozambique. Second one doesn't exist on this planet unless you can get a latitude of over two hundred degrees north. Third one ends in a village in Essex, Britain. Fourth one ends in the southern coast of Singapore."

"Second ones out," Jen stated. "Unless it's a damn clever code or the coordinates itself is another layer of Arithmancy encryption."

"Singapore is out," Dimitri said gruffly. "Their National Ward Grid is too tight to smuggle in, expected for a small country, and both their Muggle and Magical governments are incorruptible."

"You would know," Jen laughed, shaking his head at on old memory. "Mozambique though? Unlikely, the ingredients in this box aren't what their brand of dark wizards normally favour."

"Britain?" Dimitri murmured. "That's a possibility, they did help the Whites back in the Uprising, and the coordinates actually show a village unlike the others."

The two seemed to be in deep thought before Dimitri broke the silence.

"Hold it! Isn't there a high-ranking British Ministry official living in Essex? Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"How do you know that?" Jen asked suspiciously.

"Same damn reason the person who got us into Azerbaijan undetected knows about all the high-ranking international magical relations personnel, it's my fucking job. That's how I got us into Azerbaijan and all the other countries, know the people you're dealing with."

"Isn't the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation for Britain involved in the Triwizard Tournament?" Jen's face stiffened, Dimitri was not far off too, catching up to the Asian's conclusion quickly.

"We're going to have to send an owl to Anya."

* * *

**AN: Kudos to those who bothered to decipher the letter Anya got, the code I used was very simple anyways.**


	11. Chapter 11 - Second Task

Chapter 11 – Second Task

"Ladies and gentlemen," Bagman's magically amplified voice rang across the Forbidden Forest. "Welcome, to the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament!"

Up above the trees, the roar of excitement thundered from the multiple orange dirigibles floating about, the obscenely large gondola cabins packed with so many spectators magic had to be involved in keeping the dirigibles airborne. Anya took her eyes off the crowded skies to accept the Auror-grade dragonhide coat and gloves that a lanky Tournament official was giving her. As Junior Champion, safety measures were put in place in a task where they have to physically put themselves in danger, dragonhide gear offered a decent degree of protection from spells and was tough enough to stop sharp objects from piercing through. In addition to that, she was given an emergency escape portkey as well, just in case.

Pulling on the dragonhide, Anya took her place next to Fleur, who had a determined look on her face. Much like the First Task, the Beauxbatons Champions was dressed in a tracksuit, the preferred choice of clothing for most champions. Anya opted for what as familiar, favouring her usual operations garb sans ballistic vest. The part-Veela looked at her as asked in a strained voice. "Are you ready, Ms Seryy?"

"As I'll ever be," said Anya crisply, tugging on the edges of the gloves. She surveyed the ground, the night before had brought a blizzard onto Hogwarts. A thick layer of snow now blanketed the ground, movement will be difficult.

"For this task," said Bagman merrily. "Our champions are to split into three teams, each with a magically conjured Ceryneian Hind. The goal is simple, the Champions are to catch the Hinds from the other teams and the Junior Champions are to defend their Hinds. Points will be given not based on how many of the other Champions' Hinds they are able to catch but rather on how well they perform."

Duelling was allowed too, Anya remembered that nugget of information during the brief earlier. Her grip on her wand tightened, it had been a long time since she got in action. A slight grin of excitement managed to worm its way into her face. The two female champions made their way onto a stone circle in the Forbidden Forest, it was their starting position. In the centre of it stood a Hind, it was magically conjured, a floating vapour of blue and gold mist, vaguely resembling a Patronus. The hind cantered towards Anya and she noticed an amulet held in its mouth, or rather the vapour that was in place of a mouth. It tipped its head and dropped the amulet onto Anya's hand, this was what Bagman had briefed the Junior Champions about.

"_Alright, Junior Champions, you will each be provided with an amulet from your Hind. Now, the beautiful amulets given allows you to give basic control over the Hind and allows you to know its location as well. This will aid you in the task of defending your Hind from the Champions. And rest assured, other champions will not be able to use the amulet you receive._

_As for the Champions, the amulet you receive will only reveal the locations of all Hinds once every nineteen minutes for one minute, so don't go relying too much on them._"

Anya inspected the item in her hand, it was finely crafted, a large polished crystal surrounded by intricately twisted bronze. On the crystal there was a glowing red glowing dot, pointing towards the Hind. Anya walked around the Hind and the dot shift to keep pointing towards to magical construct.

"Move," Anya muttered softly, the Hind obeyed, starting a trot around the two champions.

"Now, the champions have an hour of hardship and stiff competition ahead of them," Bagman declared. "May the best pair win!"

The sound of a blowing horn resonated across the trees, signalling the start of the Second Task. Anya opened the pouch she brought with her, revealing the wooden blocks she had prepared within it. Waving her wand, she activated the runes on them and transfigured them into swiftlets, which started to dart across the trees and into the forest. Fleur took off onto the woods, casting a clever charm to keep the snow in stasis, allowing her to walk on top of the snow rather than trudge through it.

"And they are off, with Krum, Diggory and Potter opening with a Summoning Charm. Clearly, Potter's performance in the First Task was clearly an inspiration, the Summoning Charms are off and the three Champions are waiting."

Anya's guess was right, using broomsticks in a wide-area search would definitely have been the other Champions' first choice, she would have done that herself had she been in their shoes. Turning to the Hind, she began to lace the sentient vapour with various spells. Disillusionment Charm, Notice-Me-Not Charm, Silencing Charm and Shield Charm. Lastly, she took out another set of wooden blocks with runic carvings. One transfiguration spell later and there was a small flock of sparrows circling the Hind. The ward system was simple, any magical presence entering the 'circle' of sparrows would trigger a wide-area Freezing Charm, hopefully putting the intruder in a stasis.

"The three Champions are really showing their speed on a broomstick," Bagman's jovial voice reared itself up once again. "Just what you'd expect from three seekers. Look at them weave about the trees, inhuman reflexes right there!"

Those words piqued Anya's curiosity, the Forbidden Forest was old, ancient even, and the trees were densely packed. At best, there were a few clearings and gaps in the woods that could be picked out by a pair of omniculars, especially in winter where most of the leaves have fallen. But there was still enough cover that closely observing multiple high-speed broomsticks moving through the woods could no longer exist within the realm of physical possibility. Anya had the strange yet familiar sensation of being watched. Heeding that sensation, she cast her eyes about, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She found something hovering up in the trees, a wriggling ball of yellow and turquoise lines. The colour was new, but the movement and structure was not. She had seen it multiple times before, an Observation Charm and Tracking Charm combined. No wonder Bagman was able to keep a close commentary on them, the charms were likely linked to a screen somewhere in the dirigibles. However, making the commentary audible to the champions as well was a downright questionable in Anya's books.

"Oh! You better watch out there Mr Diggory, that was a close call with that Doxy swarm. But that was a clean recovery and- Sweet Merlin! Did his broom just fail him right there? It seems to be disabled, Diggory is losing control and- Ohhhh... ploughed right onto the snow."

Questionable it may be, but Anya was gladly appreciating the information Bagman was pumping down, it seems the swiftlets did their job and there were more threats than just other champions. Even from the ground, Anya could make out the faint sound of the spectators screaming from the airships above.

"Goodness, it's not just Diggory, Krum and Potter are both forced to make an emergency descent. Their brooms are failing too, just what is going on here!?"

_Breathe in, count to four. Hold, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Hold, count to four._

Points were given on how well they perform. In other words, simply standing about as a Junior Champion would not do for Anya. This competition was as much an entertainment to the masses as it was a method to foster international relations, which meant that points were given on how flashy and entertaining they could be. To Anya, going on the offense definitely provided a better outlet to entertain her audience. Sitting around trying to wow the people with fanciful defensive charms while the older students do a more active role in the task was not advantageous.

"Follow, but keep a distance. Stay low. Should I be rendered unable to fight, run away from anyone you sense," she muttered to her amulet. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on herself and a Silencing Charm on her boots, she dashed into the woods with the Hind obediently following her.

**XXXXX**

Mihail Dulovo was pissed, this task certainly was not fair. He had half a mind to complain fiercely to Professor Karkaroff after this, the Hogwarts Champions were pushing him to the edge, and they would have had Krum not given him a solid heads-up on the Second Task. Trying to prepare a solid defence for two Champions had been an excruciatingly suffocating task. Furthermore, it had to be done within the same time frame, forcing him to run from Potter's starting point to Diggory's.

Now that Diggory's Hind finally had its protections set up, the Bulgarian took a step back to inspect his work. The Hind was covered in a thick brown goo and emitting a sinister hum, promising certain bodily harm should anyone try to catch it without caution. Now all that's left to do was wait, and relocate Diggory's Hind should his Intruder Charm sound off. Dulovo could not bring himself to care about Potter's Hind, let the other Champions catch it for all he cared. The Bulgarian was insistent that Potter had cheated his way into the Tournament and having putting the British in a disadvantage was justice in his eyes.

"And just what is the plan of our female champions?" the sound of the commentary reaching his ears. "Ms Seryy seems to be adopting a rather unorthodox strategy, I certainty can't fathom what she's doing. And for Ms Delacour, she does really seem to be doing quite the opposite. She's just standing there... unless- OH! That certainly is unique, but it rather is the obvious choice to take when searching for something in a large forest.

Well... she's got it. Or at least I think she does... no she's definitely got it! She's sprinting off right now and certainly in the right direction, somebody better be prepared for her!"

Dulovo was sure those words have thrown Poitiers into mental overdrive, because it certainly did just that to him. He pointed his wand into the trees, eyes darting around, trying to pick out the slightest disturbance.

"Krum and Potter seems to be having a more difficult time searching the Hind, and Diggory has created quite a creative solution. Very smart, just like the First Task, and it might just work out. It's close, very close and- Yikes! That's just too bad, but how did she even notice those- Merlin, she is fast, very fast! She's running now and... she's running _towards_ Diggory?"

A few moments after those words, Dulovo could hear multiple sharp cracks of spells impacting against rocks, trees and Shield Charms. The fight was near, he could tell from the volume of the noises made. Diggory was engaged in a duel, and if he was to show up as reinforcement, the two of them could take down the Delacour woman. This would definitely lessen the number of threats he would face, he turned to the direction of the noise and rushed off. But without even a single step taken, Dulovo found himself unable to move, his initial forward movement providing the momentum to topple face first onto the floor.

"_Bonjour mon cher_," Fleur's smooth voice filled Dulovo's ears. "Thank you for turning your back to me."

Frantically trying to scream at the amulet, Dulovo realised he was unable to speak, Fleur had added a Tongue-Tying Curse and a Silencing Charm in addition to her Full Body-Bind Curse for good measure. The Durmstrang Junior Champion was very confused, just how was she able to either escape or defeat Diggory and make her way to his rear with seconds. Fleur turned her attention away from Dulovo and focused on the goo laden Hind, trying to come up with a solution to get past the defences Dulovo had established.

"A desperate dodge from Diggory, he can't get his bearings straight- Wait a moment, Delacour seems to have gotten to Dulovo. It was a smart move on her part, using nature-based scrying to find the Hind in a forest. Yes, he's incapacitated, she working on the Hind now. Can she get past the Durmstrang Junior Champion's defen- Mother of Merlin! That move from Seryy! Brilliant application of Transfiguration there! Diggory is having a taste of his own antidote!"

That was when Dulovo realised Diggory's opponent had not been Fleur, the sounds of spells coming from the distance came from Anya.

"She's got the senior Hogwarts Champion pinned, those bats sure are nasty and- Yes, there it is! A quick Stunning Spell from Diggory- Misses! What was that movement from Seryy? That's an interesting stance to dodge an enemy spell in a duel. Ladies and gentlemen, who would have thought that lying prone on the ground could be a viable stance in a duel? Hold it, Delacour seems to be cracking it. Almost got it. Wow! The female team seems to be truly putting on a show for us."

Dulovo watched in horror as Fleur's face split into a triumphant grin, finally able to vanish the goo stuck on the Hind.

**XXXXX**

Taking a deep breath, Harry stole a peek at the Marauders' Map ensuring that the tree hollow hid the map from the sight of whatever it was that kept track of him. He was so grateful he had Sirius for both suggesting this idea and partly creating the map he was now using. All it took was a Sticking Charm on the Firebolt and his navigation problem was solved, although he had to hide it deep in the bristles of the Firebolt to keep it away from prying eyes.

Following the plan, he would go after the Hind Poitiers was protecting first. After that was done, he dreaded the next thing that would come up. From Bagman's commentary, it seemed as though Cedric's Hind had already been captured. That would leave him having to go up against Anya, not something he was fond of, especially after hearing her take down Cedric.

Then again, not like he actually needed to. As much as how Ron claimed that Harry had a good chance at winning the Tournament, staying alive was still the main priority.

**XXXXX**

Apparently, Disillusionment Charms did not stop whatever spell the Tournament officials used to see the champions. Anya gathered that much from the commentary, it had to be the amulet that they provided that was responsible for this. As she moved through the woods, she spotted several bats flying around as well. Those bats were tiny and well hidden among the tress but Anya spotted them immediately and knew that those were the work of another champion. Her sight perceived them to be a woven sheet of Transfiguration magic glowing bright as day, someone had either conjured those or transfigured them from nearby objects. Filtering through the list of champions, she shortlisted the suspect to Cedric, the only champion to have used Transfiguration during the First Task.

The bats were likely scouts, programmed to lead Cedric to any of the Hind or champions they find. That was a problem, Disillusionment Charms does not conceal one from echolocation. How Diggory even had the foresight to use bats Anya did not know, or it could have been a big fat coincidence.

"Krum and Potter seems to be having a more difficult time searching the Hind, and Diggory has created quite a creative solution. Very smart, just like the First Task, and it might just work out. It's close, very close and-"

_Definitely Cedric, thank you very much Mr Bagman._

Anya wasted no time, a deft flick off her wand sent a Stunner to one of the bats which dropped onto the floor. Several Stunners soon followed in rapid succession, disabling the bats. She took note of the direction they came from and looked into the gaps in the trees, spotting Cedric walking with his disabled broomstick in hand. Without hesitation, Anya broke into a sprint, heading straight for Cedric.

"Yikes! That's just too bad, but how did she even notice those- Merlin, she is fast, very fast! She's running now and... she's running _towards_ Diggory?"

One final leap from Anya brought her over a bush of Devil's Snare planted by the Tournament officials and she had a clear shot at Cedric.

"_Stupefy,_" the words came out firmly as she took aim. The red jet of light exploded into sparks as it came into contact with Cedric, he had been smart enough to prepare a Shield Charm beforehand. Cedric immediately scrambled for cover, darting from tree to tree. It did not matter much to Anya though, her aim was good and her spells smashed against Cedric's shields one after another with the same rapid fire she had used on his bats.

"A desperate dodge from Diggory, he can't get his bearings straight-"

It took a few moments before Cedric realised his foe was under concealment. He waved his wand wildly and sent paint splattering all over the place in hopes of land some on Anya to reveal her location. Anya ducked behind a tree and responded by transfiguring the surrounding pine cones into bats which began to swarm Cedric, their wings batting against his face as the winged mammals dug their fangs in an attempt to bypass his Shield Charm that was the sole barrier between fang and skin.

"Mother of Merlin! That move from Seryy! Brilliant application of Transfiguration there! Diggory is having a taste of his own antidote!"

Cedric sprang into a frenzy, swinging his broomstick in an attempt to rid himself of the bats while his wand fired off a variety of spells, from Banishing Charms to Freezing Spells. Some of the bats began dropping and others were launched away from Cedric. Anya kept a distance, she was not planning on having to dodge any paint again, she also kept up the tempo, sending spell after spell at Cedric. The Hufflepuff clearly had a great deal of magical capacity, bring able to keep his Shield Charm up the whole time.

"She's got the senior Hogwarts Champion pinned, those bats sure are nasty and- Yes, there it is! A quick Stunning Spell from Diggory-"

A sudden twist of his wrist and Cedric had a Stunner sent straight for Anya, her sustained spell fire giving him an idea of where to aim. Anya did not bother with a Shield Charm of her own, her various encounters in firefights and combat training with Vlad had taught her the immediate reaction to enemy fire. Hit the dirt and move to improve cover. Landing onto the snow, Anya rolled over to dodge the next Stunner which brought snow splashing up beside her. She shuffled over to flush against a tree, keeping her profile low while maintaining her salvo of spells. It was quite astounding what wonders a solid cover and small area of exposure can to do against spells. The next two spells were not even a distraction to Anya, the Leg-Locker Curse smashing into the tree truck while the third Stunner flew by above her.

"Misses! What was that movement from Seryy? That's an interesting stance to dodge an enemy spell in a duel. Ladies and gentlemen, who would have thought that lying prone on the ground could be a viable stance in a duel?"

"_Flipendo. Incarcerous. Stupefy._" Anya laid prone behind the trees as the spells flew from her wand in quick succession. The Knockback Jinx was the straw that broke the camel's back, shattering Cedric's Shield Charm and throwing him onto his back. Ropes from the next spell wrapped around his torso tightly, keeping him open for the Stunner that went straight into his chest.

"Wow! The female team seems to be truly putting on a show for us."

Anya climbed back onto her feet, moving over to throw a quick Disillusionment Charm over his unconscious body to prevent his partner from easily reviving him, not that she needed to. She checked her watch and found that almost half an hour had already gone by, she probably only had enough time to hunt another Champion down. In her opinion, the Tournament officials had placed too many Doxy swarms and Red Caps in the forest, at least she found out what the dots on the map Fleur had deciphered meant. There were a lot of dots on the map, a lot of trouble.

Up next would be Krum, he would be a challenge if Durmstrang's reputation in the Dark Arts were anything to go by. But if she was able to take him down as well, there would be no doubt that the judges would be impressed. With one last check at her surroundings and another check at her concealment spells, Anya ran into the thick blanket of trees once again.

As she searched, Anya entertained herself with Bagman's commentary. Apparently, a rough scuffle between Poitiers and Harry had broken out, with the use of a broomstick as a club being heavily hinted. With Dulovo down, Krum himself had secured Harry's Hind with ease. It was a good ten minutes of searching before Anya came across a set of footprints in the snow, she knelt down to inspect them. The prints were size of an adult and its pattern seemed to have an ungainly gait to it. Krum had passed by here, and the tracks were still quite fresh.

"_Diffindo_," another Severing Charm from Anya lopped off the head of yet another dwarf-like Red Cap that had been stalking her, a bone club in its pudgy hands. They had been immensely annoying, their acute sense of smell negating her concealment spells. Following the trail soon led Anya to a small clearing where she stopped abruptly. She saw cords of magic coiling around the surrounding trees, they were freshly made and they were trap spells. Krum knew she was coming, he probably came to that conclusion from Bagman's commentary along with the corroboration of his amulet. He must have seen Anya's Hind move towards him on the amulet, providing him enough suspicion to infer Anya's plan of offence being the best defence.

Anya looked around for signs of the famed seeker and found him hiding behind a tree. Before she even made a move, Krum sent a Blasting Curse at her, forcing her to roll for over. The curse impacted a tree, sending splinters flying everywhere, some bouncing off the Shield Charm Anya had cast. However, the Bulgarian was not done, he sprang forward with vigour and began to keep the pressure on Anya. Strong curses and wide area spells seemed to be the arsenal that Krum was using, clearly not intent on underestimating the witch.

"An aggressive opening from Krum, forcing Seryy back. Just what you'd expect from him after the First Task," Bagman's commentary once again filled the area. "Clever move to use a Supersensory Charm to find out where Seryy is."

Ducking behind a tree as a jet of red flames splashed on the wood, Anya grimaced. No wonder Krum was able to target her accurately despite a Disillusionment Charm in place, he was able to pick out the blurry silhouette of her figure. She pointed her wand on the floor and took a deep breath.

"_Fumos_."

Black smoke exploded all around her, covering her from Krum's view. A Supersensory Charm may be able to pick out a person under Disillusionment Charms but it cannot see pass a thick physical smokescreen, whereas Anya's right eye could. She come out from her cover and responded in kind, launching a dead log at Krum with a Banishment Charm. As the log neared him, she sent a Blasting Curse at the log, showering the Durmstrang Champion in sharp splinters. His Shield Charm stopped him from bodily harm, but he was forced to start dodging as red jets of Stunners started to fly from the thick black smokescreen in front of him.

"Looks like Seryy is fighting back just as aggressively, spells are flying from the smokescreen. Just how is she able to aim through that? OH! Ladies and gentlemen, we have another heart-stopping duel on our hands."

Another smokescreen from Anya expanded the size of the swirling black smoke, allowing her more room to move about under concealment. She fired off spells as she ran around, forcing Krum to constantly shift the focus of his Shield Charm around as he seemed to be attacked from multiple directions. A flock of transfigured bats that Anya sent was met with a firm counter-spell that had the bats dropping back onto the ground as harmless stones and pine cones. Krum replied with a curse that had a sickly green acid spraying around the area, eating in snow, stones and trees. Once again, Anya was forced to take cover, taking pot shots every now and then. It wasn't that her spells weren't hitting, she prided herself in her accuracy and precision, Krum's defence was just too good. The Durmstrang Champion clearly had experience in duel as he shifted his barriers and wards with an adept skill Anya had not saw with Cedric.

"That acid curse is nasty," Bagman cried out. "Look at it gnaw into the stone, it's a good thing our young Hogwarts Junior Champion is quick on her feet, not that we can really see her under that smokescreen of hers. A close fight is going on, this is going to be a battle of speed. Both champions are clearly skilled in their defence, Seryy with her dodging movements and Krum with his Shield Charms, this is going to go down to who can strike faster than the other's defences."

Bagman was right, Anya realised that she and Krum were quite evenly matched. She was definitely faster and had better reflexes, but Krum's experience in conventional magical duelling made up for those shortfalls. She was going to have to pull a trick from her sleeves if she intended on winning this fight. As another Stunning Spells zipped past her, she started biting her lower lip, trying to come up with a plan. A pincer attack was clearly called for, his Shield Charms were too good. All she need was an attack from the back or side while Krum had his Shield Charm completely focused on his front. But there was no one else to work with, Transfiguration was out, Krum proved to be able to counter the creatures Anya sent.

_Unless..._

A small idea wormed its way into her head, festering quickly as the milliseconds passed. Anya smiled, she was going to have to pull a trick from her sleeves indeed. Krum would not expect this, the judges would not expect this. A genuine demonstration of some magical proficiency but a perfect illusion of sheer magical power. Didn't someone say that the best lies were half-truths? She dashed out from her cover and out from her smokescreen, cancelling her concealment spells as she did so. She took one careful aim, pumping all her energy into the next spell.

"_Reducto_!" the blue jet of light went pass Krum, reducing the tree on his left into a fine mist which blossomed into the air. Immediately, she tumbled onto the snow as Krum's curse flew above her head. The tumble ended with her coming back on her feet and she followed up with the most unexpected move Krum had witnessed in all his duelling experience. She threw her wand high in the air.

It was an underhand throw, with the lob sending the wand spinning directly upwards. Krum's head followed the path of the wand before finally focusing back on Anya. The split second distraction was all she needed. Krum watched as she leapt forward, bringing her left hand to her chest, pressing the thumb and middle finger together. Anya's heart was pounding at this point, the thrill reaching a climax. She could feel the prickling sensation of excitement shivering from her neck down to her toes. She faced Krum and a wide grin crept open.

Krum froze for a moment, gripped by the expression on the raven-haired girl's face. It was predatory, with an almost feral glint in her eyes. She radiated the aura of a snake that just cornered a mouse, and at that moment, he very much felt like a mouse. Somehow, the light in the girl's right eye seemed to dance with its own wild liveliness.

"_Protego_!" Krum yelled, instinctively casting a Shield Charm. He did not know what she could do without her wand but that gleam in her eyes hinted – no, screamed – that she had an ace up her sleeves and she was drawing it out now.

Anya lashed out her left hand and as it fully extended, the thumb and middle finger that were pressed together in a strained tension cracked apart in a snap. The air seemed to crackle with a wild energy the moment her hand completed that motion. Next thing Krum knew, the air ten feet to his left where the _Reducto_-ed tree once stood tore itself open into a crimson explosion.

The shockwave from the blast threw him off his feet, landing on the snow-covered ground, his Shield Charm absorbing most of the blow. A ringing sound overwhelmed his senses, he felt the warm trickle of blood flowing from his ears, the eardrums must have burst from the shockwave. He tried to climb onto his feet, but he stumbled right back onto the snow, his world spinning in his eyes. Turning onto his side, Krum emptied his stomach violently, his breakfast splattering onto the snow, a rancid brown on the otherwise pristine white. The vertigo and nausea from the shockwave proved too much for his body to handle as he curled up on the ground, clutching his head and groaning.

"WHAT WAS THAT!?" Bagman roared among the screams coming from the spectators high above the forest. "That can't possibly be a _wandless and nonverbal Blasting Curse_!?"

Anya went to retrieve her wand, which had stuck itself into the snow. She pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and turned to smile at the groaning Krum, the adrenaline still rushing in her blood. The thrill of pulling off her plan successfully was very invigorating.

"Unexpected! Impossible! And certainly a complete shock and surprise!" Bagman was raving at this point. "A fourteen year old girl using wandless and nonverbal magic at _that_ capacity? Absolutely unbelievable!"

As though on cue, the blaring horn signalling the end of the Second Task resonated across the Forbidden Forest. Cheers erupted from the dirigibles up above as Tournament officials begin to cautiously enter the area, bringing all the champions out of the woods. Anya casually sent another Severing Charm at a lurking Red Cap before following a team of Tournament officials who were lifting Krum on a conjured stretcher back to the champions' tents.

As she entered the tent, the familiar sight of Madam Pomfrey fussing over the injured champions greeted her. Harry and Poitiers sat at opposite corners of the tent glaring at one another, covered in scratches and bruises. Dulovo was uninjured, the spells from Fleur inflicting no bodily harm whatsoever. Fleur herself was sporting a kneecap that was just healed from a fracture after a particularly nasty run-in with a Red Cap. On a cot bed sat a groaning Cedric, rubbing his back that had slammed against the ground from Anya's prior Knockback Jinx.

"Oh, there you are," Madam Pomfrey said with an exasperated sigh as she notice she had two new patients. "Duelling in the woods? Really, that's a little too much. Ms Seryy, you still here and be still. I'll get back to you after I treat Mr Krum, you were a little overenthusiastic with him I'm afraid."

Anya obediently followed the matron's orders, settling herself into one of the empty cot beds. Looking at Krum, she supposed she was 'a little overenthusiastic' as Madam Pomfrey had declared, the Bulgarian was roughed up badly. Then again, she had overestimated the effort required to generate a dust explosion sizeable enough to incapacitate Krum. On top of that, it was her first time using sawdust as the medium of explosion. Thank Merlin Krum was good with his Shield Charms or else raptured organs would have been involved.

"So, hunting down other Champions are we?" Fleur asked as she joined Anya at watching Madam Pomfrey treat the wounded Champion, rubbing her newly healed knee gingerly. "I will admit I was sceptical when I heard your plan but you did turn out alright. Not everyone would expect the Junior Champion to turn the hunter into the hunted."

"What happened to Potter and Poitiers?" Anya peeled her eyes off Madam Pomfrey to look at the two males who were glaring at one another.

"From what I gathered, a brawl consisting mostly of prank spells and a broomstick. Ended in poor taste though."

"I can clearly see that. Did Potter catch Poitiers' Hind?"

"_Oui_," Fleur replied with a hint of annoyance, none of which was directed at Anya. "From what Jean was ranting about, Potter managed to hit the Hind from sixty feet away with a strong Impediment Jinx during the brawl, allowing him to catch it."

"What was Poitiers' method of defence?"

"Charmed the Hind to create mirror images."

"And Potter hit the right one?" Anya asked incredulously. "From sixty feet?"

"That was the reason Jean was ranting actually," Fleur commented. "Although the broomstick hit across his cheek could have been the other reason."

Soon, Madam Pomfrey was done patching up Krum and turned her attention to Anya, fussing over her despite the fourth-year suffering only light scrapes. With everyone treated, the champions all left the tent to check on the scores that the judges were giving them.

"Now that all our esteemed champions are here," Bagman announced. "Let us start announcing the points. Starting with Mihail Dulovo, for his rather _interesting_ method of using a combination of- err… curses and poisons to deter the Champions from catching his Hind, the judges have decided to award him thirty points."

Anya smirked, clearly the British judges were not fond of the Durmstrang Junior Champion using Dark Arts to form his defences.

"Jean Poitiers, for his mirror imaging charms earns him a solid thirty-six points. And of course, for Anya Seryy, the dark horse of the Junior Champion. Her ability and aggression in duelling her champions combined with that astounding feat of wandless magic turned the hunters into the hunted, this earns her forty-five points."

If Anya had been drinking anything at that moment, she would have choked on it. Even from the champions' tents _outside_ the Forbidden Forest, she could hear the thundering roar of cheering from the floating dirigibles.

_Alright, maybe I did overdo it._

Suddenly, Anya realised that pulling out a card like that may not have been the brightest idea in the long run. Doing something like wandless magic would definitely attract scrutiny from many people, last thing she wanted was to have people inspecting her very move, especially people like Moody. Anya plastered a false uneasy grin on her face as she saw the other champions looking at her, hopefully showing a face of modesty as she swore internally. However, she actually did felt uneasy bringing this much attention on her. Hopefully, this would not come back to bite her in the future.

"Moving on for the Junior Champions to the Champions, Cedric Diggory, for another clever feat of Transfiguration for hunting down the Hinds – although it didn't really work out – along with an admirable display in duelling earns him thirty-seven points. Fleur Delacour, for her unique and ingenious method of using nature-based scrying to seek out the Hind earns herself thirty-eight points. Harry Potter, although hitting a little bit of a snag, still managed to clinch himself a Hind through an impressive display of aim. The judges have awarded him thirty-five points. And Krum, showing us a fantastic display of duelling skills himself earns thirty-nine points."

Eighty-four points in total so far. Anya had a clear lead, with the next closest being Krum. But in hindsight, she would rather let Krum take the lead, showing off the wandless magic was probably too much.

_You'd better win the Tournament after this, Anya. If Grey ever hears of this, I am going to be found dead in the riverbanks of the Northern Dvina River._

Soon, the champions were ushered into a tent where Bagman awaited them. The man threw Harry a slight look of worry, but his face soon took on the look of wonderment when he saw Anya.

_Yeah. Too much._

"Well, this task was simply splendid, very well done all of you. Now, on to the Third Task, partners have swapped once again. Ms Delacour with Mr Dulovo, Mr Diggory and Mr Potter here will be with Mr Poitiers. Last but not least, Mr Krum with Ms Seryy."

Anya took a look at the man whose eardrums she had burst just an hour ago, the man in question was also looking at her with a mix of interest, relief and caution. A slight bit awkward, but also expected.

"I'm sure all of you are excited for the Third Task, am I right?" Bagman asked about with a wide smile. "Well… sorry folks, that's left for a big mystery. It will take place during February and that's all I can say. What I can say is that the whole of you better get ready for this sheer terror."

Unable to decide whether Bagman was being serious or just plain goofy, Anya opted to watch on silently as the man waved everyone a cheery goodbye before hastily exiting the tent.

"So… Seryy, right?" Krum asked as the other champions left the tent, cautiously extending his hand to her. The feral expression on the girl during their fight was stuck firmly on his mind. "It will be a pleasure to work with someone as formidable as you, I never had the chance to duel with one as powerful as you."

"Likewise," Anya shook the offered hand. "You were quite good yourself. It's not often that I'm forced to pull out a card like that."

"This Bagman person seems to be quite vague about the Third Task," Krum stated, looking at the tent flap where the Ministry Head of Department was a minute ago. "I suppose that doesn't leave us with much clues to work on."

"Definitely not," Anya agreed. "Guess we'll just have to prepare for the worse, brush up on any useful spells."

"Sound advice. Until the next time then."

The Bulgarian left the tent as well, leaving Anya to take a deep breath before heading back to the castle herself. She could already imagine the attention and persistent questions from the students awaiting her.


	12. Chapter 12 - Aftershocks

Chapter 12 – Aftershocks

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CLASSIFIED 03M/03R

This document can only be read by personnel with Level 03M or 03R clearance or above. Personnel without proper authorisation caught possessing or viewing this document or a copy of this document will face an Azkaban sentence of at least 30 years in addition to a Memory Charm being performed.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC

DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES

RESEARCH DOCUMENT E7J112G

**PROJECT WILTSHIRE FIVE: EXPERIMENTATION REGARDING HUMAN AUGMENTATION VIA 'LIVE' RUNES**

DATE: █████████ 1903

DOCUMENT BY: 04A ████████████

CONTENT

ABSTRACT - 1

PROJECT SUMMARY - 2

PRIMARY WORKINGS - 4

APPLICATION OF THEORY - 70

RESULTS AND CONCLUSION - 178

ANNEX A - 211

ANNEX B - 289

ANNEX C - 313

ANNEX D - 336

Page 1 of 347

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ABSTRACT

Both historical sources and current proven research has indicated that Active Runes can be applied to humans just like other various objects that have been used as a platform for Active Runes. These have traditionally been used to enhance the physical and mental capacity of the human body.

However the process of applying runes on humans is a much more dangerous and painful process involving tattooing, carving and branding to name a few. Additionally, Pythion's Laws on activating Active Runes comes with the restriction that no Active Rune is permanent in is its magical effects unless an input of magical energy is present every time an Active Rune is manifesting. On an inanimate object, this can be done through the appropriate charms or runic energy conservation systems. However, these methods cannot be feasibly applied on living beings such as humans.

As such, Project Wiltshire Five aims to further push the laws of magic by circumventing this issue, thus coming up with a method to permanently augment the human body. This document serves as a record to the process and results of Project Wiltshire Five. As of the date this document has been recorded, Project Wiltshire Five has been concluded by 05R ████████████ and 05M ███████████ as a success. Declaration as success had been approved by 08M ██████████.

PROJECT SUMMARY

Project Wiltshire Five began on ███████████ and ended on ████████ 19██, building on various other works of research from sources both inside and outside the department. Namely, results from ██████████████, ███████████████████ and ███████████████████████████████████ were the most heavily used. Further details on derived research can be found in Annex C.

Project Wiltshire Five was proposed by 05M ███████████ for research purposes, stating that the results of such a project can lead to its implementation in the █████████████████████ to further improve their operating capacity, as well as its implementation in █████████████ to ensure their ███████████████████████████████████. This was approved by 08M ██████████. Full details can been found in Annex C.

The project was held at Sector ██ Lab █, working under a ██ men team. Majority of the research duration involved theoretical hypothesis and calculations, working out possible runic scripts and systems on parchment and deriving its potential feasibility via Arithmancy deciphering. In order to facilitate the project, ██████████████████████ of varied ages were acquired from the █████████████ supervised by 07F █████████ in order to test the various rune scripts during the latter part of the

Page 2 of 347

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"Astounding, simply astounding," chirped Professor Flitwick, bouncing on the balls of his heels. "Who would have thought Ms Seryy was capable of wandless magic at such a high proficiency. Why, Albus, I think that even you wouldn't be able to do that.

Accompanying him were his fellow Head-of-Houses and the Headmaster. Their bright orange dirigible gently descended onto the designated landing area alongside other dirigibles. The whistling sound of steam signalled the stop of the droning propellers and the doors opened on its own. Hordes of people filtered out from the plump airships and made their way to the castle. Many were chatting animatedly, the Second Task was just as exciting as the First Task. However, one thing clearly stood out in this task to be the highlight: the wandless and nonverbal Blasting Curse that had sent the famed Durmstrang Champion sprawling on the floor.

Even beside the professors, a second-year Gryffindor was speaking with excitement to his friend, "And just like that, _snap_, and Krum when flying from that explosion. How did she even do that?"

"Probably cheated, being the Slytherin she is," the other student grumbled.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for senseless slander," Snape said silkily as he passed by the pair, catching up with the other professors. Once again, Karkaroff had decided to corner him for a discussion.

"Really now, Severus," Professor Sprout admonished. "Just let the boys have their fun."

Snape chose to remain quiet, allowing Dumbledore to speak up. "It is indeed quite astounding, very unexpected indeed."

"Unexpected?" Professor McGonagall asked suspiciously. "Weren't you the one who accepted the girl's transfer to Hogwarts? Surely you would have anticipated her abilities from the portfolio her family provided."

"That is exactly what made it unexpected," Dumbledore replied serenely. "Her results from the Magical Academy of St Petersburg show her to be a rather average student, showing high proficiency in only Transfiguration, Runes and Muggle Studies. Whereas her other fields were quite lacklustre."

"Well, she is proficient in Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall admitted. "She probably rivals Ms Granger in the coursework, and I can confidently say she is more than ready for her Transfiguration OWLs"

"Filius, Pomona, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired. "What about her other subjects?"

"As you said Albus," Professor Sprout responded. "The girl is lacklustre in her Herbology, averaging at only an 'Acceptable' score. Honestly, I suspect it isn't the lack of skill rather it's the lack of effort."

"Filius?"

"Quite strange actually," the short man piped up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "She results in Charms are very temperamental, she could be struggling with even the simplest of charms one day but master difficult charms the very next day. It's as though she never had consistent practice in Charms back in Russia, only practicing certain charms while ignoring the rest."

"Their syllabus could be different in Russia. Honestly, from all these, I find her to be very strange." Professor McGonagall suggested. "Have you checked on that Albus, delved deeper into the records?"

"Honestly, I didn't," Albus said with a casual shrug. "You know how the paper trails are in the Russian Ministry of Magic. It's a complete swamp to trudge through."

"It's like they never recovered," Professor McGonagall exclaimed with an exasperated sigh, as though she was commenting on a particularly troublesome student. "They had what? Three years to recover?"

"Three years is a short time for a country," Professor Flitwick said sagely. "But from what I hear from my old acquaintances, it has made leaps and bounds in ensuring civil and financial stability. It's just that no effort was made to improve the administrative aspects of the government."

The group had reached the great doors of the castle by then. Lunch was about to start soon and they had silently agreed to have their lunch together before the start of their work. After all, the Great Hall was just a door away.

"Well, Severus," Professor Sprout asked the Slytherin Head who had been quietly following. "What's with the silence? She's in your house, you ought to know her best."

"It was as Professor Dumbledore said," Snape simply replied. "She is does well in Transfiguration, Runes and Muggle Studies while having an average if not shoddy performance in her other fields."

"Surely you know more than that," Professor Sprout pressed.

Snape seemed to consider the words for a long moment before speaking. "She is highly independent and seems to prefer working on her own. Although she seems reclusive, she is able to make friends despite being a foreign newcomer, developing bonds with Nott, Zabini and the Greengrasses. On top of that, she has proven herself very worthy of being in House Slytherin, especially after this task."

"The wandless magic?" said Professor McGonagall curiously. "I was unaware that raw power and high magical capacity were what Slytherin prides itself in."

"No, but cunning is," this time, Snape allowed him to crack a slight grin, the corners of his lips twitching up. "Evidently so if she had managed to trick everyone, include all of you here, into thinking that the explosion was purely wandless magic."

"It wasn't!?" Professor McGonagall gasped in surprise, stopping in her tracks. "But how was that even possible?"

"A very simple trick that can fool even the most brilliant of wizards," Snape answered. "Muggle science, the moment I recalled her aptitude in Muggle Studies, I saw this as a possibility to the cause of her display in 'wandless' magic."

"Do explain Severus," Dumbledore coaxed him gently.

"As I potioneer, I – like many Muggles in certain professions – understand the danger of reactive substances suspended in air as dust. Should there even be the slightest spark, it could trigger a reaction that can result in an explosion similar to what we have just witnessed."

"I didn't see her throw a vial at Mr Krum," Professor Sprout reasoned. "How could she even have reactive substances in the air without us noticing?"

"Filius, how was her duelling?" Snape asked the ex-duelling champion. "Particularly, her aim."

"She was very fast and agile," Professor Flitwick recalled. "As for her aim, very accurate and never missing. Krum had to constantly use a Shield Charm for all her attacks."

"_Never_ missing?" Snape echoed, emphasising the first word.

"Well... I suppose there was one," Professor Flitwick said thoughtfully. "Her Reductor Curse was the only one that missed- OH! I understand now! Indeed, as you say Severus, she is very cunning. I never even thought of that!"

"Do explain Filius," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm sure we'd all like to know."

"If you observed closely and were not distracted by the ongoing duel, you will notice the missed Reductor Curse hit a tree quite close to Krum, completely rendering it into puff of dust. As we all know, wood being flammable can fill the requirement of a reactive substance. Add that with a Reductor Curse and..." Professor Flitwick trailed off, allowing the rest of the professors to piece the clues together.

"Unbelievable," said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Ms Seryy truly is creative, but how did she ignite the dust?"

"I did say she fooled everyone into thinking it was _purely_ wandless magic," Snape explained as the professors took their seats in the Great Hall. "The ignition of the sawdust could have indeed been wandless magic."

"But to even have that degree of control in wandless magic is still quite impressive," Professor McGonagall responded, helping herself to some haggis. "Not many could even do that without a wand."

"Hold it!" Professor Sprout's fork clattered onto her plate. "Wouldn't that be cheating? After all, she didn't truly use wandless magic the way we thought she did. That was what the judges gave her the points for."

"And the same points can be given for her ability to deceive even the Headmasters of three prominent magical schools," Dumbledore said jovially with a chuckle. The chuckles lasted a few seconds before a grimmer expression took over. "Now that you say she's strange Minerva, I do agree with you. And the timing of her transfer too, of possible times to transfer why now?"

"You mean transferring over during the year where there's the Triwizard Tournament?" Professor McGonagall said. "Well, it is odd but surely a coincidence."

"No, not that," Dumbledore said slowly, gazing at Snape. "The requested for her transfer comes the day after the Dark Mark was cast over the Quidditch World Cup."

"Honestly, Albus," Professor Sprout frowned. "Alastor must be rubbing off you."

"It's not just that Pomona, it's what she's able to do, especially in the two tasks we've seen so far. Filius, you say she's shaky at Charms but I realised that she does quite well in four charms just in this task alone. Disillusionment Charm, Notice-Me-Not Charm, Silencing Charm and Banishment Charm, the first three being spells rigorously drilled during Auror training for Tracking and Evasion. As you said, she is 'only practicing certain charms while ignoring the rest'.

As for runes, in the two sets that she has demonstrated in total, one is a sensory alteration and the other specifically denies magical transport. Not the usual rune scripts a student would learn. Furthermore, she actively chose to hunt the other Champions down during this Task are rather than evade them despite knowing that evasion is easier with broomsticks being disabled. And from the looks of it, being in a fight fazes her to absolutely no degree whatsoever. In fact, she rather looks to be in her natural environment."

"Now that's taking it a little too far," Professor McGonagall scowled, not liking the direction of the conversation. Snape on the other hand, met Dumbledore's gaze and seemed to be pondering deeply.

"Is it?" Dumbledore countered gently. "I'm sure all of you had heard of what happened in Alastor's class."

There were nods all around, all of them have heard about Moody casting the Imperius Curse on the students, with only Harry and Anya being the only ones who could throw it off.

"Many of you may not realise it, but the method she apparently used is a method I've seen before. I last saw it during the war against Grindelwald," there were a few gasps from Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick. The looks on the other two Head-of-Houses became more solemn. "It was a technique devised by the British Ministry of Magic as the twentieth century just came. Specifically, from the Department of Mysteries as a method for those who might lack the high mental capacity to counter the Imperius Curse. Despite looking simple, which it actually is now that I think of it, a great deal of training is still required for a person to instinctively inflict bodily harm on oneself upon receiving an Imperius Curse. This method was then employed by several Auror brigades throughout Europe in an attempt to counter any Imperius Curse from Grindelwald's Acolytes."

"That's what she did!?" Professor Sprout burst out, looking at the raven-haired girl sitting on the Slytherin table. "I thought it was just an accident."

"Feels comfortable in a fight and received specific Auror-level training in her magical education," Professor McGonagall summarised, a dawning sense of comprehension overcoming her. "Albus, just who is she?"

"I can't say, Minerva. She could have been a child soldier, I've heard that such things were a commonplace in Russia. Or she could possibly be an agent in the Russian Ministry. But what worries me is – as I had said previously – the timing of her request to transfer to Hogwarts and the fact that Severus has said that the relations she had struck up here were the families Nott, Zabini and Greengrass."

Their lunch had gone cold by this point, but not that any of them cared. They all understood Dumbledore was trying to say.

"Albus, just what are you trying to imply?" Professor McGonagall asked carefully.

"I'm not implying anything, Minerva. I'm merely putting down the possibilities. Severus do keep an eye on her, will you?"

Snape nodded before turning to face the girl, who was by then surrounded by a large group of people, all clamouring to speak to her.

**XXXXX**

"Come on Seryy, just tell us how you did it!" the same question reached her ears for the umpteenth time. She deflected with a casual shrug and a small enigmatic grin, choosing to carry on with her lunch.

"She ain't letting it up lads," Zabini told the group over his soup. "I've tried asking her for over an hour and she didn't budge."

"Does anyone here have Veritaserum on hand?" Astoria asked the crowd innocently, bringing out a rousing wave of laughter. "We could force feed her and then ask her. Oh! We should ask Professor Snape for some."

Anya joined in the laughter, waving off yet another question on how she achieved a wandless Blasting Curse. In the corner of her vision, she picked out the Head-of-Houses and Professor Dumbledore discussing. There were a few moments when their eyes flicked over to her direction, she was the topic of their conversation. Judging from their expression, they were not discussing anything positive, their faces ranged from shock to suspicion, she reckoned she probably overdid the whole wandless magic act. As their conversation came to a close, Dumbledore said something to Snape, who nodded and chanced a look on her. Anya sighed internally, it was bad enough having to avoid Moody, another professor's watchful gaze was not what she wanted.

Finishing her meal, she left the Great Hall. She avoided crowd of people nipping at her heels, insisting that she deserved a well-earned rest after the Second Task. Taking a turn towards the dungeons, she found herself further away from the hustle and bustle of the students. It was just a passing ghost or two that occupied the corridors, which was the reason Anya was surprised to find Mr Crouch loitering around.

The man moved with a quick pace, the sharp and rapid clacking of his shoes brimming with an anxious and frustrated urgency. However his face was a blank, his glossy eyes darting all over. If it had not been for the nerve bundle that connected it to the body, Anya would not have been surprised to see his eye spinning like Moody's magical eye.

"Ms Seryy, what are you doing here?" his voice was hallow and strained, making it seem as though articulation had become a gruelling chore for him.

"Going to my common room," Anya answered casually, though she had already shifted her body to hide her drawn wand from the man's view. She remembered Dimitri's warning in the letter and Mr Crouch's behaviour seemed to corroborate the oddness of the letter. "I'm in Slytherin after all."

"Is it now..." Mr Crouch trailed off, beginning his pacing down the corridor again. He was not acting suspiciously, Anya thought. No, he was acting like a deranged vagrant. Anya observed the man in his trip down the corridor trying to figure out the uneasiness she was feeling. Suddenly, she caught it, the lines of magic twisted and wounded around his head. She wondered why she never noticed it till now, probably because this was her second time seeing the man up close and during the first time she had been swept up by the excitement of being chosen as the Junior Champion. This man was under the Imperius Curse. That meant that someone had him in their pockets, obtaining dark ritual ingredients from overseas under his name and utilising his position as Head of International Magical Cooperation to smuggle them in. The main question now was what to do, but before she could even come up with an idea, a gruff voice growled from her back

"Good afternoon, Mr Crouch," Moody limped over to the man and shook hands. "Sorry to intrude, but you're wanted by Bagman in Dumbledore's office. He wants to discuss something for the Third Task."

Mr Crouch complied, walking obediently down the corridor. Moody place a firm grip on Anya and steered her away, leading her away from the Slytherin common room. "Come on Ms Seryy, I want to discuss something about your most recent essay."

"I think that can wait, Professor," said Anya, glad to have a solution to Mr Crouch's behaviour. "Because it would seem as though Mr Crouch is under the influence of an Imperius Curse."

"Nonsense, lassie. Why would you think so?"

Just what happened to the paranoid man who screamed 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE'? On her periphery, see could see privacy wards being casted by the professor, swirling around the corridor. Anya's caution grew tenfold, something was off, and she had to choose her words carefully.

Red lines filled Anya's vision as soon as her hesitation became to apparent, prompting her to twist herself out from Moody's grip and tumble onto the floor. A red Stunner flew past where she was just standing moments ago, colliding with the stone wall in a sharp crack. Turning around, Anya saw a drawn wand in Moody's hand, still faintly glowing from the spell he had cast. She reached for her pistol before realising that she was still in her previous Tournament attire. She never brought her weapons for the Task, fearing an item check. This was going to have to be all wandwork and unarmed combat. And against a physically disabled old man, she opted for unarmed combat.

Lunging forward with an inhuman speed, she landed her foot onto Moody's kneecap, hearing the satisfying crunch of it fracturing. The ex-Auror staggered forward into her incoming elbow, which snapped his head upwards, sending his body off balance. Moody crashed onto the floor on his back and Anya seized the advantage, landing her knee on his wand hand to direct it away from her. With her right arm on his neck, the other reached for her wand.

However, it was not quick enough. Searing flames shot from Moody's wand, encircling the pair like a coiling snake and even taking the form of a giant snake. The fire grew larger and larger with a loud billowing noise, smothering the entire corridor in a matter of seconds. But it never reached for the pair who were on the floor, it moved about jerkily towards them but was pulled back by an invisible force whenever it got too close.

"It's Fiendfyre, Ms Seryy. It only heeds my command, and is the sole reason we are still alive now," Moody growled. "You wouldn't be so foolish as to incapacitate me now, would you? I doubt you would know the counter-curse for this."

_A magical Dead-man's trigger. Smart. Very bloody, fucking, damn smart. Should have went straight for the neck._

Anya looked around from a possible escape route, but found none. The cursed fire covered too much area for any movement and Hogwarts was warded against Portkeys. She was cornered, she had to admit Moody played a very good move. Sighing, she completed her drawing of her wand. Still keeping the knee on Moody's wand, she pointed her wand at Moody.

"Imperius Curse wouldn't work, lassie," Moody smiled, stretching his scars into an ugly form. He called her plan out accurately. "Fire will go straight out of control."

It was definitely a fib. It could be a fib. It might be a fib. But it did a very good job in making Anya hesitate, Moody's smile grew wider, knowing that girl was too cautious to try. He will give her credit, she didn't look the slightest bit scared. Many girls her age would have been frightened senseless, but she merely put on a look of deep frustration, as though he just played a very good chess move against her.

"Privacy wards to keep people from hearing this noise too, smart," Anya murmured before raising her voice. "You know, Professor Moody, I could just stall until someone comes across this mess."

"Oh, you like to play this kind of game," said Moody wildly, his eyes alight with a mad excitement. "Let's see who cracks first then."

He twitched his wand slightly and the fiery serpent tightened its coil, bring the flaming wall closer to the pair. With a triumphant grin, he faced the girl.

"Well, lassie, are you still going to play it like this? You do know that I could control the flames to burn only you," the smile on his face grew wilder with each passing moment, whatever facade he had been maintaining seemed to break down rapidly.

"And you would start an investigation for a missing student who was seen just mere hours ago," Anya replied smoothly. "And being a Triwizard Tournament Junior Champion no less. You wouldn't risk this, you'll need me alive."

"Oh, you're a clever one," Moody cackled with the same madness in his eyes. "But are you sure? Let's just see if you're as mad as I am!"

The fires coiled even closer, inching in slowly until only a feet of hot air separated the pair from a fiery death. Anya was sweating bullets at this point, the heat was unbearable.

"Curse damage is irreparable," Anya told the grizzled man. "If I get harmed by just the tiniest bit, something would be off."

"You think I care?" his grin grew even wider. The flames were inches away from licking Anya's boots at this point, Anya swore under her breath. She did not know what his plans were, trying to ensure that the Imperius Curse on Mr Crouch stayed confidential, but she was sure it wasn't worth her life. With a final look for any passing student or ghost that ended in vain, she dropped her wand, allowing it land on Moody.

"You win," Anya relented, raising up her hands in surrender and moving off Moody's body.

"Good effort, lassie," said Moody, picking up Anya's wand and climbing on his feet with difficulty due to a fractured kneecap. "Not enough."

"What's next?" Anya asked slowly, narrowing her eyes at Moody. "Can we both just forget this moment? Literally too, a Memory Charm would do just fine right about now."

"That would be my plan too, Seryy," Moody growled, slowly building back his original expression of an ex-Auror and not a crazed maniac. "But first, ten steps back."

A flick of his wand widened the coil of fire around them, providing Anya ample room to move. However, Anya merely looked at him in confusion. "You need space to cast a Memory Charm?"

"Don't fool around, lassie," Moody barked. "I need space to ensure that you stay harmless. You didn't think I would just cancel the Fiendfyre right now without any insurance, not when you are able to cast wandless magic and move as fast as a werewolf on a full moon. Now sit on the floor, legs crossed. And the hands stay up too."

Anya swore under breath, her last resort scrapped. She obliged, settling herself onto the hot floor. Moody threw her wand back to her, knowing full well she can't use it against him without dying herself. Anya caught the wand with a puzzled expression.

"Stun yourself, you know that spell very well."

_Very damn smart._

Not like she had much choice, Moody held all the cards here. Steeling herself, she pointed her wand at her chest. Hopefully, Moody wouldn't plan on messing around with her unconscious body. Then again, lunch should be over by now, if he didn't make his clean-up neat and fast, he would be caught.

"_Stupefy_."

Her world when black.

**XXXXX**

It was cold, very old. It was painful, very painful. Each snowflake that landed on Anya's face seemed like a taunt from mother nature. She sat on the snow, her hands gripped tightly on her right thigh, attempting to stem the bleeding. The effort was in vain though, as Vlad had said. The wound was cursed such that applying pressure would not achieve any results, cauterisation was called for.

Anya cursed out loud, tears streaming down from the pain and exhaustion. She was close to giving up now, so damn close. All it took was one word, one syllable, and she would be whisked away by a portkey to the comfort of a warm bed and medical treatment. She was feeling a little woozy from the blood loss, she had been bleeding a lot, evident from the long trail of blood on the white snow. Turning her head, she looked on hopelessly at the bundle of kindling and sticks she had struggled to find in the Siberian wasteland. She had no wand, no lighter, no match, not even a flint to work with. She couldn't even rub the sticks to generate enough heat to start the fire she so desperately needed, they were all too damp and she didn't even know how to do it correctly.

She was only provided two items, a blunt knife for wood cutting and as cauterisation tool and a patch of steel wool to start a fire. There were no batteries to ignite the latter item though, because she was supposed to be the batteries herself. Taking another deep breath, she focused on the steel wool nestled within the kindling, yearning every last drop of energy into her fingertips. With a frustrated grunt, she snapped her fingers but once again, nothing happened. This was messed up, she never even got the hang of it before being rudely shoved into this predicament. She collapsed onto the snow, looking distantly at the unlit bundle. Looking up, she saw a lone Soviet attack helicopter - a Mi-24 - flying off in the distance. She wasn't far away from a Muggle military base too, getting caught would not bode well. Her eyes followed the helicopter's path until she could turn her head no further without twisting her body around.

She wrung her hair in frustration. It was not like as though she had anything to lose. As Nathaniel had said, anyone of them was free to walk out anytime. Many had, she had seen them walk away never to return. If anything, giving up now would put her life less at risk, both present and future.

With a sigh, she realised that this was the only life she had known. She had found a sick sense of comfort in it and she was not willing to leave the realm of familiarity. Also, she wanted to stay with those who had grown up with her. Those who had cared for her and those she had cared for in return. Her family. She was enduring so that she could stay by their side.

Though they were all orphans from different parts of the world, a strong sense of camaraderie had formed between them. They were all shedding the blood of others in this murky life of theirs so that they can stick together. If all of them chose to leave simultaneously, Anya doubted that any of them would look back with regret. But that never happened, so they all stayed.

Anya turned back to the unlit bundle of wood, she was sure somewhere in the hundred mile radius, Dimitri, Wei Jen and Kiel were all facing the same predicament, placed in the same grueling test. Nathaniel had made it clear, they probably would not find themselves further in his personal tutelage should they fail this. She was confident Dimitri would pass this, he had the raw magical power built to brute force his way through. Jen and Kiel probably would pass too. If she failed this, she would still be able to see them, but living together like they alway did in Arkhangelsk? Not anymore.

_Listen up all of you – especially you Dimitri, stop dozing off – understand that wandless magic requires a high degree of purposefulness. It not just magical power and ability that allows one to wield wandless magic. Understanding exactly what you desire is the key, that is how magical children create accidental magic, the forerunner of wandless magic. Known exactly what it is that you desire and materialise it into the physical plane, that is the key to using wandless magic. Of course, the scale of things you can do with wandless magic still falls on your ability, power and amount of practice. Nonetheless, I expect all of you to be able to achieve the standard set of cantrips wandlessly by the end of this month. Magic is only truly dangerous if it is completely independent of all tools, wand included._

One last time, she lifted her hand and with great deliberation, snapped her fingers once more. This time, a crackle of electricity danced about the steel wool, igniting it into a warm glow as the fire spread to the kindling and to the sticks. A relieved smile cracked open at the orange light, she brought her hands close to the fire, warming them up.

When the fire grew big enough, she stuck her knife in the fire, giving ample time for the metal tip to heat up into a red glow. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the burning metal against the wound on her thigh, screaming as the pain overwhelmed her. The process repeated until finally, her wound had stopped bleeding. Anya allowed herself a small smile, she couldn't wait for Tanya's turn to be tested.

If all of them failed simultaneously, Anya doubted that any of them would look back with regret. But that never happened, so they all stayed.


	13. Chapter 13 - Dungeon

Chapter 13 - Dungeon

"Seryy, you alright?"

Anya snapped herself back into focus, almost stumbling onto the floor. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around at the passing sixth-year Slytherin who called out to her, something was clearly wrong.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the Slytherin seemed satisfied by her response and carried on his path.

_Did I just zone out on my way here?_

Stretching her arms over her head, she continued her way to the Slytherin common room. Then, a humming sensation on the back of her head made her stop, dread creeping up on her. She never thought that those runes would ever be activated, especially not here in Hogwarts. Carved into the back of her skull was a small circle of runes, about the size of a galleon. It had been a nightmarish process involving too much of a scalpel-wielding Vlad, but Nathaniel insisted that it was necessary. It was a Mind Magic runic script, providing and enhancing Occlumency as well as providing defence against unwanted tempering of one's mind.

It was not perfect, but it was something. And its hum was informing Anya that someone had just tempered with her mind. The runes were currently attempting to restore her mind back to the original state, hence the hum, it would take days, weeks or even months depending on the skill of the caster. Taking slow deep breaths, Anya forced herself to calm down before taking a look at her watch. It had been twenty minutes since she left the Great Hall, she remembered taking the turn into the dungeons and somehow ending up here. She did the math in her head, factoring in her walking speed and her current location. It had taken five to ten more minutes than necessary to end up here, which was also the duration she could not remember.

_Just what could possibly happen in five to ten minutes? And just who was it? It couldn't have been a surprise attack, I can see those coming. No, there had to be a fight, one that ended in me losing. Probably not a student, one of the teachers?_

Filtering through the list of suspects, Anya came to the most likely conclusion, Mr Crouch. After all, there had been that letter from Dimitri, and that man used to be in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it was not too far-fetched. Maybe she had caught him smuggling in those dark ritual ingredients that Dimitri had mentioned about and he was forced to Oblivate her. Well, she couldn't possibly know and she did not plan on jumping to conclusions, once the runes did their job, the truth will be revealed. For the time being, she had to be very careful with Mr Crouch.

**XXXXX**

**December 1991**

"This is the place?"

"Yep, it's the whole district too, this town is a Red stronghold. More than half the shops you see are a front for their activities."

The two of them were looking at a shopping district of a town. Most of the stores had already closed, not many roamed the streets. There was an open bar or two, a brightly lit convenience store that operated the night hours and a butcher shop that was just turning in for the night. Other than that, the no light came from the buildings.

"Who are we going after again?" Anya slowly slid in a fresh magazine into her Dragunov, enjoying the clicking sound as it went in place.

"They call him the Butcher and he's Ignovich's right hand man," Kiel answered. "Can't believe the coward actually sold all his partners out."

The two of them were currently nestled on top of a water tower, the tallest structure they could find in the town. Despite the water tower being far from district they were looking at, this was still the best view the two of them could find. Kiel had a pair of modified omniculars in his hands, his own sniper rifle lay idly beside him. He had a very good aim but at this distance, it was much better to let Anya do all the shooting while he provided spotting assistance. Nathaniel was not with them, having left to catch bigger fishes. Instead, it was another one of the nameless faces Anya had seen multiple times who was leading this operation.

Anya glanced at her watch, it was six in the evening, but the winter season had ensured that the sun was already vanishing out of sight. Ten more minutes and the assault would commence, Anya nudged her partner and showed him the timing on her watch. The two nodded at one another and each pulled out a gas mask from their bags. Pulling the rubbery masks over their heads, the pair performed a quick buddy check, making sure their masks were worn properly and that the filters were in working condition. After adjusting their masks for comfort, the two children went back to surveying the area. She saw a lot of enemies and she was glad Nathaniel's uncle, Grey, had the sense to send a larger team here. Strands of magic radiated from patrolling wizards and there were more than just a few machine gun nests hidden around. This was not going to be a skirmish like Vladivostok, but if all went well, it was going to be a massacre.

Off in the distance, Anya could already see lines of magic sprouting around the town, a combination of Muggle-repelling wards, Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey Jinxes. Grey truly was a magical and logistical genius, Anya had to give credit to the grumpy old man, coming up with a reliable method to ward off an entire town from scratch within half an hour was no easy feat. The Muggle-repelling wards have been up for an hour by this point, hopefully, most of the innocent population would have left the town on some sudden errand. Maybe some of the Red's Muggle fighting force would have left too, probably not though, they had been charmed to resist wards of those nature.

Ten more minutes for any innocent passer-by to vacate the shopping district. If not, they would likely die, nobody here really cared about the collateral damage. What's left of the Ministry will cover up for them.

Time decided to move slowly as the ten minutes passed by, neither of them saying a word to the other. As the ten minutes of silence passed, a sharp whistling sound signalled the commencement of the assault. It tore through the dark sky, leaving behind the faintest trail of illuminating light. Arching over their heads, the small white light flew towards the town, heading for the shopping district. Behind it, dozens of similar light followed its path.

As the white disappeared within the buildings and streets, plumes of dust and smoke erupted up. Even from where she and Kiel laid, she could feel the slight tremor and the air rumbled in a thunderous clap. When the first light made its violent mark, the rest followed, plunging into the district. Only a few more explosions followed, the rest descended without the fanfare of its counterparts. The ones that didn't explode were not duds, in Anya's opinion, those were more sinister. Those were the reason each of them had been issued a gas mask.

Just as the dust was settling, various squads of men on broomsticks from all directions zoomed through the streets, heading for the shopping district. They kept in tight formation, some ascending over the buildings to rain down spells while most dismounted upon reaching their destination, dashing for cover the moment they did. When the white lines drew tight, so she her finger on the trigger. A soft thump and one of the machine gun nest located in the second floor of a shop went silent.

"Hit," said Kiel, his voice sounding hollow due to the gas mask. "Next target. Bearing two-zero-zero. Range, one-seven-three-three. Machine gun nest in the third storey of the green building, two windows from the left. Zero wind change"

Another round fired, lighting their surroundings in a brief flash that only they could see. Half a second later and the bullet found its mark, silencing yet another threat.

"Hit. Next target. Bearing one-niner-four. Range, one-five-six-two. Stationary wizard in the middle of the street firing Killing Curses. Wind change, adjust left by four clicks."

For the next hour, that had been the routine, Kiel would mark out targets, keep track of the winds and indicate any sight adjustments required while Anya followed his instructions. When the moon had reached its zenith, an eerie silence had finally settled over the town. There were smoke columns in the air and the warm glow of burning wreckage scattered throughout the area. When the 'all clear' signal was given - three green flares, one blue flare - Anya and Kiel decided to inspect the carnage.

Death, the whole place was permeating with its sickening stench – which in this case, smelt surprisingly akin to freshly cut grass. Burnt carcasses and bodies hit with more exotic curses contributed to most of the foul odour, not that any of them could smell it, everyone had their gas masks on. With the phosgene gas still lingering the air, the only other alternative was a Bubble-Head Charm. Nobody used that charm, everyone on the job knew that a Muggle gas mask was the safer option; it was less prone to puncture.

"Remind me again why Grey always brings phosgene gas for operations like this?" Anya asked uncomfortably, avoiding another dead body.

"It's colourless," Kiel humoured the rhetorical question, equally uncomfortable with the grim atmosphere. But the two of them neither backed out nor did they voice any complaints. "And wizards don't notice them until it's too late. It's much easier fighting an enemy who is half-choking and forced to maintain a Bubble-Head Charm."

"Did they catch the Butcher?"

"Yes," Kiel nodded. "Fed him to the dogs from what I've heard, literally. They probably took a page out of Nathaniel's books."

They came across a smouldering butcher shop, where three of their Spooks stood outside, casting spells all over the place. From the looks of it, there was an even bigger commotion inside. The two children turned to each other and held a silent conversation, before nodding and heading for the shop. One of the three men noticed the incoming children and headed to stop them.

"You'd better not want to enter this place," the man grunted. "It's an absolute mess."

"Why's that?" Kiel asked.

"You'll find out why they call him the Butcher if you do," the man spoke ominously. "If you still want to enter, then on your heads it'll be."

Kiel turned to Anya for her appraisal and the girl shrugged, as though saying 'why not'. The blonde turned back to the man and gave a firm nod, walking towards the butcher shop with Anya behind him. The front door had been blown open by a curse and any glass that existed were on the floor as shards. Hooks dangled from the ceiling, hanging up various cuts and joints of twined meat. The people inside were busy checking the shelves and drawers for anything interesting, overturning tables and cabinets. Ahead of them, a trapdoor to the basement laid when open, one of their Spooks occasionally leaving and entering.

The dark maw seemed to draw the two of them in and they cautiously made their way down the trapdoor steps. Each step brought out the slight tap of their boots on the concrete, only further resonated by the close walls. However, a screaming voice seemed to drown out their gentle footsteps. The place was large, unnaturally so, an Extension Charm must have been put in place. As they reached the basement, their boots squished on the sickly blood that threatened to flood the place.

Bodies.

Bodies everywhere. Some hung from hooks on the basement ceiling, akin to the meat upstairs. Others laid on the rows of tables that stretched from one end of the room to the other. Those were mutilated beyond belief, entrails spewed out from their bodies, some had their legs dismembered and others stripped of their skin and their eyeballs removed. In another corner of the twisted workplace, organs were stored in jars filled with runic carvings and various bags were filled with blood. They were all catalogued and labelled, some already in crates. Ingredients to fuel the magical black market.

And for the most useless part of the bodies in terms of black market value, the meat, those were carved expertly into manageable pieces, drained of all blood and twined up in butchers string. When the realisation hit them that the Butcher had sold the unwanted meat to the residents of the town, Kiel bent over and retched in his gas mask. Anya could feel the bile rising in her throat through, she cast a Bubble-Head Charm on herself and ripped off her gas mask. Fumbling at her vest, she opened a pouch and took out a vial of orange liquid. Pulling out the stopper, she drained the vial in a single shot, exhaling in a ragged breath as the liquid entered her stomach. As the cold familiar shock of energy reached her fingertips, she shuddered and fixed her eyes open, allowing the rush of energy to clear her mind.

_Stare. Stare. Stare. Do not back down._

Catching her breath once more, she placed her gas mask back on and cancelled the charm. She turned to find Kiel applying a cleaning charm on his gas mask in an attempt to remove the bile he expunged. The two looked at one another, they were tempted to leave, they were going to leave, but a fresh shriek of anguish drew their curiosity like moth to a light. Edging closer to the back of the basement revealed rows and rows of cages, and within them rested bodies. Some were still alive, barely so, choking their lives out gradually. Most lay dead, their contorted bodies signalling a painful death. The phosgene gas must have seeped in when the shells rained down on the district. All of the people here were meant for slaughter, locked up like cattle waiting to be sold.

"AHHHHHHHH!" the fresh wails caught the pair's attention once more. Bringing their focus to a group of Spooks who were surveying the scene before them. A young boy knelt on the cold metal cage he was trapped in, dressed in tattered rags. In his arms was a dying girl, choking softly as the gas that permeated the air slowly robbed her of her life.

"_Sestra! Sestra! Ostat'sya v zhivykh_! (Sister! Sister! Stay alive!)" the boy held his sister tightly, shaking her gently. Slowly, the light in the girl's eyes faded and the gas robbed her final breath away. "_Pozhaluysta, ostavaytes' v zhivykh. Vy moya yedinstvennaya sem'ya ostalas', tak chto, pozhaluysta, zhivi_.(Please, stay alive. You are my only family left, so please live.)"

Another cry of grief wrecked the boy as he finally realised his sister's passing. He could do nothing but watch as his sister died, his life secured by a Bubble-Head Charm he had conjured from accidental magic. Anya looked at her fellow comrades who watched the scene, they were all frozen stiff in shock. She could see the surprise etched in their eyes through the eyepiece of their gas masks. They hadn't been expecting this, nobody had. Everyone knew there would be innocent lives lost as collateral damage, but their Muggle-repelling wards would have eliminated many unnecessary lives lost. Anyone else caught in the gas would have had ample time to flee, the rest would have discounted as bad luck, they had all been trained to adopt that mindset. But this was not bad luck, this was just disgustingly depressing, trapped behind metal bars with nowhere to run as invisible death tightened its grip on their lungs.

Anya made her way pass the frozen adults and to the wailing boy, kneeling in front of him. Slowly, she moved her hand over the dead girl's face and covered her eyes, bringing some semblance of solace to the poor soul. She faced the boy and stared into his eyes that bore a similar green shade as hers. Despair, sorrow, grief, Anya wasn't sure which words suited the pitiful face in front of her. The two children looked at one another, they could not be possibly more different. One was donned in combats pants and boots with multiple layers of thick clothing that culminated in a ballistic vest and jacket, lithe, healthy and fit with a rifle sling over her shoulder. The other had only a thin layer of rags to fend of the cold and did not even have shoes on, skinny, sick and shivering from the cold.

At that moment, Anya did not care for they were both the same, children caught in this hellish bloodshed. She pulled the poor boy into a tight hug and allowed him to cry his heart out onto her shoulders. As his sobs subsided, she scoped him up and heaved him onto her back, piggybacking him out of that nightmare and to the surface. She tore her eyes from the boy's face, but she knew that sight would wander in her dreams for the rest of her life.

**XXXXX**

"Alright Seryy, one last time," said Zabini as he let out a puff of smoke. The three reclusive Slytherins found themselves lounging around in an unused classroom. "How in Merlin's name did you pull that off?"

Anya shrugged nonchalantly and offered a cigarette - both boys had left their back in their dorms - to Nott, who graciously accepted it. "Mate, if she ain't saying anything. She ain't saying anything, period." Zabini grumbled silently, muttering something about 'bribed by fags' before the trio fell back into companionable silence, enjoying the peace.

"No, seriously," Zabini broke the silence again. "You can't just do that."

Anya chuckled, Zabini had yet to let her off the hook for her wandless magic at the Second Task. In fact, almost everyone had yet to do so as well, despite weeks passing by. From the hallways to the classrooms, whispers followed her regarding the Second Task. Frankly, Anya could not see the fuss herself, after Nathaniel had drilled the similarities between a children's accidental magic and wandless magic in her head, she found her own wandless magic quite lacking. Some of the accidental magic that children pull off are more impressive than the cantrips adult can cast with wandless magic.

"Well, she did," said Nott. "Still, any ideas on what's for the Third Task?" The Third Task should be coming anytime soon, despite a vague date for the task, Anya felt that it was probably a week or two away.

"Like I said, Bagman acted all spooky and said it was a terrifying mystery," said Anya as she scratched the back of her head, right over where the hum of the runes were. She had been a lot more jumpy lately, though she never showed it to others. Having someone in the castle who had altered her mind did little to soothe her. To top it off, she feared her recovery would not be complete for months, whoever it was did a thorough job.

"Man's an overdramatic twat," Zabini snorted. "How he even become a Head of Department is the bigger question."

"Well it's almost time for Runes," Anya declared with a sigh, hopping off the table she had been sitting on. "Nott and I better make a move, see you soon Zabini."

**XXXXX**

Anya Seryy. That girl was an enigma, it was the first thought that Hermione could come up with whenever she saw that Russian girl. Everything about her seemed so inconsistent and uncanny that she wondered why Harry ever thought of her as his sister - thank God that fiasco was dealt with.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she saw the girl in question, scrutinising at the Slytherin for anything that seemed out of place. The girl entered the classroom with Nott, exchanging a few words and making their way to the back of the class where they settled themselves down. No doubt about it, that girl was an enigma.

In total, Hermione shared three classes with the transfer student, Runes, Potions and Defence. And in each of these classes, what little attention she had paid to the Slytherin girl made the girl even stranger. She excelled in Runes, Hermione herself would begrudgingly admit that, she performed at a NEWT-level proficiency, maybe even going further as to say it was a Gringotts curse-breaker standard. In Potions, she seemed just average but Defence was what struck her as the most uncanny. For starters, she seemed to be the only one unfazed by Moody's erratic behaviour and despite showing no distinct aptitude in that subject, her ability to hold herself in actual combat - as demonstrated in the Second Task - was on a level expected from Aurors, she even broke the Imperius Curse Moody had placed on her.

It was almost as though she had experience in real life combat, but Hermione dismissed that foolish notion. Finally, there was the incident, as she called it, with wandless magic during the Second Task. Hermione herself had tried desperately to learn wandless magic since her first year, scouring through various books in the library when she had the free time. In the end, the whole feat seemed too advanced for her and after a few inquiries with Professor McGonagall she decided to drop it, saving it for the future. Somehow, the Slytherin girl seemed to be able to cast high-powered curses using wandless magic at the age of fourteen, Hermione herself was saving her second attempt for her sixth year. Hermione could not deny feeling jealous.

"Alright, everyone settle down," said Professor Babbling rapping her wand on the table, smiling genially at her students. She was upbeat, perky and encouraging, a good choice of tutor for a depressingly difficult subject. Behind Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, she was easily Hermione's next most favourite teacher. "Lesson's about to start."

Almost immediately, the students began to give their undivided attention to the willowy professor. Hermione internally smiled at the rapt attention that the students gave here unlike the core subject classes. Being in an elective class that was considered as the second most difficult - behind Arithmancy - had its perks, everyone who was there came willingly to learn, any of the slackers in their year would have scurried off to another elective like Divination.

"For the rest of this second semester, all of you here will be doing a pair project. This project will contribute to twenty percent of your final grade, so do put in your best effort for this. Remember, we're aiming for everyone here to score an Exceeds Expectations grade."

Everyone took a breath, this project was going to be big, Hermione could see nearly everyone eyeing either herself or Seryy hopefully.

"Every two weeks, each pair will have to make a presentation on their progress. As for the topic of the project, since this particular cohort has performed above average compared to other years, I believe a treat is in order."

The silent excitement in the class grew even thicker as she said those words. Many had a good idea of where she was heading, they were even hoping for it.

"Since all of you have established a solid foundation in third year and OWLs are in next year, I believe that this year is the perfect opportunity for a little bit of higher syllabus experimentation. I believe that this is a good motivation for everyone to continue their Runes to the NEWTs. For this grand project, we delve into Active Runes."

There was an explosion of cheers at the announcement, Active Runes were probably what kept the students going. After all, they were the only practical application of runes aside from translation and essentially a form of assisted wandless magic. Their entirety of the OWLs were dedicated towards theory with no practical in the magical sense. Third year involved the learning the basic runic languages of Ogham, Elder Futhark and Younger Futhark and the magical meaning behind each isolated rune. Fourth year saw Egyptian and Sumerian runes thrown into the fray while they learn the interrelationships between different runes and their effects when combined. Fifth year would have snippets of more esoteric languages as well as the theoretical formulation of successful runic scripts that can be used magically.

It was only after their OWLs and into their NEWTs that all this would be turned into a practical application of magic in the form of Active Runes. Professor Babbling was taking them all straight into the NEWTs for a small taste of what to expect, hopefully to leave them hungry for more. Hermione couldn't deny the effectiveness of that plan, she was already craving for more from just the idea of applying Active Runes.

"Now remember," Professor Babbling said sternly. "These are Active Runes we will be dealing with and you are all still fourth-years, there will be no magical activation of any rune scripts you carve without my direct supervision. Yes, even you Ms Seryy."

Hermione turned, along with everyone, to face the girl at the back of the class who had an amused expression on her face.

"We would not be performing any large scale Active Runes, just miniature test models to show the concept. The theme for what Active Runes to use will be left to your choice. As for the pairings," Professor Babbling continued, taking out a scroll of parchment. "I have already decided them for all of you. Now, Terry Boot and Padma Patil... "

Professor Babbling began to read off the parchment, students eagerly listening to each assigned pairing until she came to a pair. "Hermione Granger and Anya Seryy."

This time, there was an explosion of outrage as the students instantly demanded that the two best students in Runes – one of whom was already proficient in Active Runes – should not be paired together on the basis of fairness. It took a while before Professor Babbling was able to calm the class down.

"Everyone, please, I have my reasons. Ms Seryy here is a Junior Champion in the Triwizard Tournament and will have to dedicate time in preparing for it. With that in mind, she may not be able to help much and would possibly be a burden – no offense, Ms Seryy – to take as a partner. By pairing her with the next best Runes student, Ms Granger, nobody who be severely disadvantaged. See? It all works out. Now, everyone please kindly move to seat with your partners, might as well build some rapport together."

The students seemed mollified by her explanation and began shuffling around the class to seat with their assigned partners. Hermione, feeling that the Slytherin would not bother herself with moving, collected her belongings and moved to sit with Seryy.

"So, we'll be together, huh?" Hermione chose to break the ice. The girl was normally silent, and seldom talked. Unlike Daphne Greengrass, the Ice Queen of Slytherin, her silence was not one of disdain and superiority, it was neutral and occasionally slightly amused, as though the happenings in Hogwarts were a child's play. All in all, though Seryy was strange, she seemed quite amiable unlike some Slytherins like Malfoy, so she might as well break the ice.

"It appears so," Seryy nodded, appraising her partner. She kept the whole affair short and professional, not that Hermione minded. "I do apologise beforehand if I become, as Professor Babbling mentioned, a burden."

"No, it's quite alright," Hermione dismissed, taking out her quill and parchment to begin talking down notes as Professor Babbling began listing out the path to take for the project and the recommended books to read up on. She chanced a glance at Seryy and nearly gasped in surprise.

The girl was using pen and paper, idly twirling the ballpoint in her fingers. Further inspection revealed the digital wristwatch on her left arm, numbers flashing in a loud declaration of being Muggle. A Muggleborn or Half-blood transferring here? Definitely uncanny, this was rare even for the Purebloods. Hermione felt like she should not ask but her curiosity always got the better of her.

"Do you happen to be Muggleborn?" She asked gently, hoping to subtly wheedle the information from her, unaware that the girl had been reading her body language.

To her surprise, Seryy cut straight to the chase. "I use a pen and paper because it's more convenient as a left hander, prevents all the unnecessary smudging. Muggle watch, because those are cheaper."

"Oh," that was all Hermione could manage as a response before asking further. "Don't the Slytherins bother you for being, I don't know, 'Muggle-ish'?"

"Couldn't be bothered," her replied was filled with mild amusement.

Definitely uncanny.

They kept an air of silence after that, focusing solely on the lesson. When the bell rang, Hermione quickly agreed on Tuesday and Thursday evenings in the library as their meeting plan. With that done, she left the classroom with a sigh. She was hoping for a chance to partner with some good Ravenclaw, but here she was stuck with a girl that seemed to be brimming with secrets. However, Hermione perked up when she realised her partner was already proficient in creating and activating Active Runes, she could possibly learn a lot from her.

**XXXXX**

Gunshots. Gunshots everywhere, the bright muzzle flash and the loud cracks. Accompanied by spells firing everywhere, green jets of light taking precedence over other spells. Everything was a wild blur and Anya did not know she was, but it felt familiar all the same.

There was a loud bloodcurdling shriek and Anya spun around to find a gaunt man leaping at her with a crazed look. He pinned her onto the ground, but she had already drawn her a knife, lodging it deep in his neck. Blood gushed out like a burst dam and the crimson fluid splattered all over her, staining her red. With a great heave, she pushed the limp body away and climbed onto her feet.

Anya looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Brick walls were everywhere, she was in an empty building. Or was it a street? She couldn't tell, it was too dark. However, what was easily discernible was the dead bodies all around her, some laid on the floor and some were standing. But all of them had the same glazed lifeless eyes staring at her hauntingly, blood trickling from various wounds on their bodies and pooling on the floor. Looking down at her hands, she saw the blood covering her hands, its coppery tang all too familiar. She wiping her hands on her pants, the only clothing left not heavily drenched in blood, hoping to remove some of the blood from her hands. But the blood stayed on her hands, unwilling to part with her. Anya frowned, wiping her hands again, but still the blood stayed. Pausing for a moment, Anya stared at her blood-soaked hands before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

When she opened her eyes, she was in the Slytherin dorms, lying on her bed. She sat herself up and checked her watch – it was a habit of hers to keep wearing it – which told her that it was three in the morning. Looking past the bed drapes, she could see the sleeping figures of her dorm mates, Greengrass, Davis and Parkinson. Beyond them were the dead bodies around the room. Her breath almost hitched in her throat, but she forced herself to breath and stared into the eyes of the corpses. They had the same glazed lifeless eyes.

_Breathe in, count to four. Hold, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Hold, count to four._

Anya looked down to her hands and they were coated in blood, as though her dream had clawed its way to reality. She clenched and unclenched her hands and she could feel the slick sensation of the blood rubbing against her fingers. The stench of blood and rotting bodies wafted through the air and the sharp metallic taste of blood filled the back of her throat. Anya stared at her hands for a minute before surveying the entire room and all its gore, refusing to flinch the slightest as though she challenging it. It was a familiar sight, and the drill had almost become a routine.

_Stare. Stare in the eyes. Stare in the eyes of the dead until they can no longer haunt you. Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life. Remember and recall so you can always know it. Know it well so you do not fear it. Humans will fear what they do not know._

Subconsciously, her hands were clenching and unclenching faster and faster before she rummaged through her trunk, fishing out a vial of orange liquid. The sight and feeling of an Invigoration Draught brought a sense of comfort to her, she brought it closer to her before she froze. Staring at the vial for several minutes, she placed the vial back to where she found it and settled back down onto her bed. With another blink of the eye, the gore and bodies faded from her sight, leaving only the slight tang of blood in her nose.

_Not today, another time. You're at Hogwarts now, it's a new start. Listen to Nathaniel, stop drinking it._

Lying down, she stared listlessly at the ceiling of her bed before she heard soft footsteps approaching the door from outside and a very gentle twist of the doorknob. Anya grabbed her wand and shifted to face the door, closing her eyes as much as possible while being able to see. She considered grabbing her pistol, but there was a possibility that whoever was entering the room was not a threat. There was not point risking the secret of her bringing firearms to Hogwarts, she could always make a grab for it if needed.

The door opened to reveal two man with their wands drawn, Anya did not recognise them. They looked around the dorm room for a moment before heading over to Anya's bed. Through the cracks between her eyelids, Anya saw one of the two men point his wand at her. As she saw the cords of magic gather at the tip of the man's wand, she acted without hesitation. Twisting her body, she lashed out a leg to kick his arm away, sending the spell firing at the ceiling of the room instead of her. Before the man could let out a sound of surprise, she pointed her wand straight at him and shot a Stunner straight at his chest, she would interrogate him later.

"_Protego_!" she cried out as the other man shot a spell at her, the spell bouncing off her Shield Charm harmlessly. The spell ricocheted off the charm and landed at a mirror, shattering it in a shower of blue sparks. The noise had been enough to awaken the other slumbering girls in the room, who all woke up to the sight of Anya casting a Severing Charm. The man dove out of her line of fire at the last second and the spell connected with a bookshelf, slicing it in half and sending parchment flying everywhere. This prompted the other girls in her dorm to scream in fright and panic, scrambling off their beds and making a beeline for either cover or exit. Anya paid them no heed, shoving her nightstand towards the man. The nightstand absorbed another spell which cracking under the impact, and smashed onto the chest of the person. Anya seized the opportunity, sending a Disarming Spell at the man and snatching the wand mid-air.

"_Incarcerous._" Ropes flew out from the tip of her wand, binding the person tightly. Calmly making her way over to the person, Anya halted when she heard a familiar voice.

"Ms Seryy, do refrain yourself from injuring one of the Tournament officials. It would cause a lot much trouble than you have already managed to cause."

Anya turned to the doorway to find her Head-of-House standing there with a frightened Tracey Davis hiding behind him.

**XXXXX**

Snape had been told by Dumbledore to keep an eye on the girl. He was not surprised, considering the argument that Dumbledore had put up, he even agreed with the old man that the girl was slightly suspicious. After all, she seemed to hold herself exceptionally well during combat, with reflex that Snape could say was on par with Aurors. If there was any more doubts to her suspicious nature, it had disappeared.

Standing at the doorway of the room, the sight that greeted him was an ugly one. Shattered mirror, glass shards on the floor and parchment all over the place. In a span of half a minute, the girl had rose havoc on the room and incapacitated the two Tournament officials sent to collect her for the Third Task, all this during three in the morning where she should have been asleep. Snape was very glad he had the foresight to place privacy wards on the dorm room. Had he not, the whole of Slytherin would have woken up to the sound of the fight and the combined screams of the Davis, Parkinson and the older Greengrass. He was also glad that he chose to accompany the two Tournament officials up to her dorm, being able to put a stop to the mess before it descended into further chaos.

"Tournament officials?" a look of confusion on her face.

"Yes, Ms Seryy. Tournament officials," Snape repeated, gesturing to the two man lying on the floor. "There were sent here to collect you for the Third Task. It was meant to be a surprise for all the champions, them waking up to find themselves already in the Third Task."

"Oh, I thought they were intruders," came the girl's simple response, finally lowering her wand.

"Clearly you did," said Snape, moving over to revive the stunned official while Anya handed the wand back to the other official. "But apparently, some things can't be helped."

The girl looked a little sheepish at the mess she had created, muttering a quick sorry to the disgruntled Tournament officials. One of them sighed and pulled out a vial from his robes, handing them to Anya while the other proceeded to cleaned up the mess that had been created.

"What's is?" Anya asked, taking a cautious sniff at the potion.

"Sleeping potion," the man grunted. "This was the backup plan, because… you know, this happened. No worries, you'll only be sleeping for another few hours."

Anya laughed weakly, drinking down the vial in a swig. She laid back down on her bed and closed her eyes, slowing drifting away into a deep slumber.

"Much bigger mess than what everyone would have expected," the one who had just cleaned up the mess commented.

"Agreed," the other one nodded before turning to Snape. "Well, Professor Snape, we thank you for your assistance. If you weren't here, one of us would have been hurt badly."

"Just hurry up and be done with this," Snape replied irritably. "I have better things to do."

"The same here."

With that, they levitated the sleeping Anya and left the room while one of them stayed behind to inform that the other girls not to leak this incident out.

**XXXXX**

Anya woke up with a groan, feeling a little sore. As she took into account her surroundings, she understood why. She had been sleeping on the cold hard floor. With a loud yawn, she stood up and examined the situation. She remembered the previous night, or rather this morning, and knew that this was the Third Task. They had left her here in a standard Tournament tracksuit attire that the other champions had donned in the Second Task, her wand in one of the pockets. Looking around, she found herself surrounded by familiar stone walls. She was in the Hogwarts dungeons.


	14. Chapter 14 - Third Task

Chapter 14 – Third Task

It was empty, eerie and quiet. Too quiet. Where were the cheering spectators? Even in the Forbidden Forest of the Second Task, Anya could occasionally hear them from their airships up above. Focusing on her right eye, Anya looked around the place until she finally found what she was looking for, the very same combination of Observation Charm and Tracking Charm that had hounded her during the Second Task. She expected the spectators to be lounging in the Great Hall, the entire event being broadcast on a magical panel.

Next, she drew her wand and cast the strongest _Homenum Revelio_ she could muster. The spell turned up blank, there was no one in the general vicinity or the walls were enchanted to block the spell. Trying to figure out what the point of the Third Task was, Anya walked around the room she was in. The place had to be the Hogwarts dungeons, the air was much staler than the corridors of the upper floors. However, the place seemed new to her, the Tournament officials probably reconstructed the dungeons of Hogwarts. Or asked it to, Anya remembered a portion of the book _Hogwarts: A History_ mentioning that Hogwarts was a pseudo-living castle that could repurpose its structure to fit the needs of its inhabitants.

If anything, she would say she was in a refitted classroom, the place being cleared out except for a table in the centre of the room. There was an amulet placed on the table, this one made of ornate gold with runes carved all over it. Anya picked up the amulet and inspected the runes, synchronisation rune scripts along with an auditory detection and project rune script. In short, it was a magical communication device.

"Comms check. Comms check. One, two, three. Can anyone hear me?" Anya spoke to the amulet, waiting patiently for a reply.

"Hello?" a gruff voice came from the amulet, Anya recognised Krum's voice. "What is this? What is going on?"

"Viktor Krum?" Anya asked. "Is that you?"

"Yes. And who is this?"

"Anya Seryy. _This_ would be a method for communication between the Champion and his assigned Junior Champion. What is going on would depend on your current situation, do you happen to be trapped in a dungeon?"

"Yes."

"Then you are facing the very same problem that I am in now," said Anya, moving over to the door of the knob. She looked over it for magic and saw the swirls of magic emanating from it, she followed the trail of the magic which disappeared into the walls, probably connected to something else in the dungeon. Trying the knob, she found the door to be locked magically, at least she now knew what the magic she saw was. Looking at the dark mahogany door, she could spot circular patterns of runes carved on the wood.

"Describe what you are seeing," Anya ordered. "Because I'm seeing a locked door carved with runes and an empty room."

"I see the very same thing. _Alohomora_."

From the walls where the door's magic trailed out of, a simmer of magic she recognised as an Unlocking Charm snaked to the door and broke into shards as it impacted whatever magic it was that kept the door locked. As a result, the door rattled gently before coming back to a still. It appeared as though the spells Krum cast would affect her door and vice versa.

"Unlocking Charm doesn't work, Seryy."

"I noticed."

"How?"

"_Alohomora_," this time it was her who cast the Unlocking Charm, hoping that Krum would see his rattling door despite being unable to see magic. "You notice now?"

"Ah... yes. It seems our doors are connected. We must be tasked with opening each other's doors."

"Well the runes on the doors seem to be giving us a clue," Anya remarked.

"Indeed, and Arithmancy decoding spells seem to reveal the equations and formulas of the magic behind the door, even the Essence Revealing Charm works on the door. I suspect we are being tested on spell identification and spell dismantling."

_Nothing like good ol' thermite_.

Anya humoured herself with that thought, but there was no way she was going to conjure up thermite to use in front of a crowd. The poor Purebloods would all freak out.

"Well, let's get to work then," said Anya, moving over to inspect the runes on the door. "My door seems to be locked under a Triple Layer Sealing Spell, runes indicate that the layers are alternated in a positive-negative lattice pattern."

"Triple Layer Sealing huh?" Krum muttered in annoyance. "This is what they use for some of the doors in Durmstrang, it will be difficult to crack."

"Not in a set alternating layer," Anya countered. "Just apply enough pressure on the middle layer with a basic ward breaking spell to shift its nodes and the whole thing will come crashing down. Magical energy of like polarities will repel."

"And why are you so familiar in cracking wards?" Krum asked curiously.

"I read a lot," Anya evaded. "Just start working and tell me what your door holds."

"Nothing much honestly," Krum answered. "From the Arithmetic equations, all I can say is that there's a Locking Charm and an Anti-Alohomora Spell."

"That simple?" Anya was surprised, expecting much more.

"Well, this is for a Junior Champion..." Krum trailed off, leaving Anya to snort in disbelief.

"Alright, then I know what to do. You start working on my door first Krum, the wards will take time to be dismantled."

Anya patiently waited as Krum began to tear down the spell sealing her door. A few minutes passed and her door sprang open, causing her to hear a slight chuckle of satisfaction from Krum.

"Well, Seryy. What are you waiting for?"

"You may want to step away from your door." Anya gave the Bulgarian ten seconds before aiming her wand at the door. "_Confringo_!"

The door absorbed her spell readily and Anya was pretty sure Krum's door just got blown open by her Blasting Curse.

"Merlin! Seryy what did you do?"

"A Blasting Curse," Anya replied casually. "No point wasting time trying to crack a spell. We better get going, this Third Task is probably some sort of a puzzle course that the champions have to race against."

"Alright, use a Reductor Curse the next time, you seemed to be very proficient in those."

Laughing quietly at the jibe, Anya proceed down the now open hallway, keeping her wand up at all times. Her eyes were practically lighting up at the number of glowing lines all over the dungeon, various spells holding together this fiesta of a Task. Among all the Tasks so far, this was the most reliant on magic, everything from the doors to the walls seemed to be tied up in a vast array of interconnected charms and enchantments, powered by either runes or spells.

Because of this, it was quite easy to notice the subtle shifts and changes the dungeon was undergoing as she made her way down the stone path. A swarm of charmed candles hanging on a chandelier was easily noticed by a coiling twist of purple lines, causing them to clash with a pre-emptive Freezing Charm before they could get near to Anya. The hallway of armour suits were met with similar pre-emptive spells – this time Reductor Curses – before they could rush the Junior Champion, strings of orange from the ceilings attached on their joints like puppets controlled by the dungeon itself.

Some of the challenges like the animated objects were dealt with alone, but others required cooperation with her partner. A giant stone door that Krum faced required Anya to decipher a riddle to open. A giant golem that attempted to pummel Krum into a glob until Anya was able to rearrange a hall or mirrors for a red beam to shine on a gemstone. The further they went, the surer Anya was that the person who designed this Task in particular was a Muggleborn who had lived off Indiana Jones movies.

"Seryy, how long have we been in this dungeon?" Krum asked impatiently.

"Two hours at most," Anya replied, ignoring a growling stomach as she fired a spell at a purple valve at the ceiling. "There, the water should stop now."

"Thank Merlin, drowning in a dungeon is not at the top of my list," said Krum as the door in front of Anya opened, revealing a corridor and an opening door. Said door revealed a flooded room with a drenched Krum who was firing off another Stunning Spell at a Grindylow.

"Well this is a pleasure," Anya remarked, taking her eyes off Krum to check the corridor. "Good to see you here, Krum."

"I do hope this means that the Task is reaching its end," Krum sighed, stepping into the corridor and casting a Drying Charm on his clothes.

The pair made their way down the stone corridor before entering a large chamber. The chamber was vast and cavernous, rows of towering Romanesque columns held the vaulted ceiling in place, their stone blocks bearing a pristine shade of white. At the end of the chamber stood the light at the end of the tunnel, a sloping corridor that seemed to lead out of the dungeon. Two other corridors stood beside the corridor they just came from, presumably for the other teams.

Making their way into the chamber, Anya immediately noticed circular swirls of dormant magic scattered throughout the ceiling and walls. She recognised them as the same kind of magic behind the Leaky Cauldron that opened the path to Diagon Alley, there was probably a nasty surprise waiting behind the stone blocks. Accompanying that were invisible – not to her though – tripwire spells that smothered the entire chamber, Anya could spend her time deactivating them but it would risk providing more time for the other champions to catch up. After all, feeling quite confident with their rate of progress and the absence of the other teams, Anya reckoned they were at the lead.

"You seem hesitant," Krum observed. "Is there something wrong?"

"This whole room is a big trap," Anya stated.

"Of course," Krum softly snorted. "The exit lays right in front of us with no obstacles in between? Even a child would notice that something is off."

Suddenly, a cry of joy from their backs made the pair spin around, pointing their wands at the source of the disturbance.

"We made it! Exit's right there!" Poitiers jabbered excitedly to his Hogwarts partners, Harry and Cedric, before screeching into a halt. "_Merde_."

Cedric was the first among the three to react, aiming his wand at Anya whom he perceived to be the bigger threat. Harry and Poitiers followed suit, aiming at Krum instead. There was a minute of silence as each side stared at the other, waiting for someone to make the first move. Eventually, it was the Frenchman who broke the awkward silence.

"I believe this is what's called an impasse," said Poitiers lightly. "Is duelling allowed in this Task?"

"Nobody said anything," Krum shrugged. "It's a free for all. And shouldn't Potter and Diggory be competing against each other?"

"Well," said Cedric hesitantly. "Let's say we agreed on a Hogwarts victory here."

"_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Protego_."

Both green-eyed champions fired their spells at the same time, Harry's Disarming Charm splashed harmlessly against Anya's Shield Charm, signalling the start of an ensuing chaos. Both teams ran for the exit, firing off spells as they ran. Cedric, having experience with Anya and her insanely accurate aim, held a Shield Charm for his team as they rushed for the exit, allowing the other two to fire Stunner after Stunner.

It did not take long before someone activated the tripwire spells scattered throughout the chamber. There was a deep rumbling sound and the ceilings and walls began to move, the stone bricks shuffling and rearranging to form circular holes. A wave of clicking sound filled the champions' ears as several acromantulas crawled out from the holes, making their way to the champions as the holes behind the arachnids sealed back shut.

Seeing the giant spiders make their way towards them, the champions all made a mad dash for the exit, occasionally firing spells at either the acromantulas or their competitors. As the teams neared the exit, Anya felt a sharp jerk across her gut. Next thing she knew, she was hurled back into the chamber and the acromantulas, landing on her back.

She reacted on reflex when the red lines flickered in her vision, eyes darting around her periphery before rolling aside to dodge the incoming pincers of a pouncing acromantula. With a wide swipe of her arm, a Severing Charm decapitated the arachnid. Climbing onto her feet, she observed her surroundings.

Around her were the traces of a Summoning Charm, faint broken strands of yellow scattered in the air. Krum laid a few feet away, moving up from his prone position as well. It seemed that he was also pulled by the Summoning Charm. Five acromantulas were making their way closer, their pincers clicking rapidly. To the exit, the other champions were almost at the exit, Cedric waving on his teammates to move faster.

However, all those were of little concern compared to what her right eye saw. Fluctuating wildly were the various lines of magic that covered the entire dungeon. Iridescent cords curled and thrashed violently before starting to stretch and pull, shaking dangerously in protest to the strain it was under. The tension grew higher and higher until, finally, it snapped.

The explosions went off all over the chamber like a lit ammunition dump, the tremors throwing Anya off her feet. Blocks of stone raptured into fragments, showering the chamber with rubble. Slowly, parts of the chamber began to collapse, the columns that held the ceiling crumbling down into piles and large chunks began to block the place. At least Fleur and Dulovo would never reach this mess as a segment of the ceiling blocked out what would have been their corridor. Once again, she was forced to roll went a large piece of falling rubble threatened to kill her. When she got back onto her feet, she found an incapacitated Krum lying on the floor, having been hit on the head with a loose fragment of stone. Trying to stabilise herself with the still shaking chamber, she made her way to the Durmstrang Champion and checked his vitals. There was a strong pulse, he was in no immediate danger.

Rather, the real danger came in the form of the now torn down walls. A mass of acromantulas now poured from the holes, cracks and raptures all over the walls and ceiling. Five she could easily deal with, fifty, sixty, no- seventy with a deadweight to carry out was starting to seem impossible.

"_Rennervate_," Anya muttered, watching the spell fail on Krum. The hit on his head must have been hard enough for severe concussion. Anya glanced down at the unconscious body and considered abandoning him, but a voice pull her from her thoughts.

"Come on Seryy, move! I'll get Krum," yelled Harry as he shot a Reductor Curse at the acromantula closest to Anya. Ignoring the falling rubble, the Gryffindor rushed over and began lifting Krum up as Anya watched on with shock.

"Potter, are you fucking retarded?" exclaimed Anya, voice thick with disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I can't just leave the two of you behind," said Harry feverishly, trying to place the Bulgarian on his shoulders. "You'll die here."

"And so will you," spat Anya, whirling around to send a Blasting Curse into the mass of black. The curse blew open an acromantula, sending its nearby compatriots scattering around. Anya turned back to see her brother struggle with carrying Krum, taking slow steps towards the exit where Cedric and Poitiers were yelling at them to move. With a suffering sigh she pulled the unconscious body off Harry's back, she heaved the body over her and carried Krum with ease in a fireman's lift.

Anya immediately launched herself into a sprint, keeping a hold of Krum with one hand while holding her wand in the other, occasionally letting loose a curse at the horde of arachnids. Harry stuck close behind her, firing Stunners as he forced himself to keep up with her. All around them, pieces of the chamber were still falling, mounds of stone bricks creating a difficult path to traverse. Dread gnawed on her bones when the still collapsing magical system caused another burst of explosions, this time bringing down the exit. Cedric and Poitiers managed to dive out of the way to safety, but now she had no way out.

Cursing softly under her breath, she placed Krum down on the floor and considered her options. The acromantulas were encircling them by this point, the prospect of fresh meat sending them into a frenzy as the clicking of their pincers grew louder. Harry backed into her, face pale and shaking slightly.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. What do we do?" Harry aimed his wand at the approaching acromantulas, shifting his aim jerkily every so often to the nearest acromantula. The arachnids – having the intelligence to understand its threat – reacted to his wand, jumping back whenever the wand was pointed at them.

"For starters, calm down," Anya responded, staring at the acromantulas as though searching for an opening. "You're a Gryffindor, be brave."

"Heh," Harry snorted. "What about you, Slytherin?"

"Being cunning here," said Anya softly, not giving her full attention to the conversation. "And that requires me to calm down."

"So you have a _cunning_ plan?" Harry asked, pointing his wand at other creeping acromantula, which jumped back angrily, its pincers clicking even more loudly.

"Yes. We simply wait and stay alive."

"What!?"

"Think about it Potter," Anya reasoned calmly. "This is a controlled tournament, not a real scenario. Even with this major screw up, the officials are probably hauling their arses to get this fixed as we speak. So we stay alive, and let them do the work. It's bad publicity if three champions were to die in a Triwizard Tournament that has just been reinstated."

"You're gambling here, Seryy."

Another acromantula tried to make its way forward, but dropped dead when Anya sent a Severing Charm it, cleaving its head open. The clicking grew louder, the arachnids were growing restless.

"And those are some good odds."

"Good Godric," Harry sighed through his ragged breathing. "Are you damn sure on this?"

Anya turned and faced him, staring straight at his eyes. Her voice was soft, but there was a steely edge to it. Even amidst the loud clicking of acromantula pincers, her soft voice easily found its way into Harry's ears.

"Do you trust me? Absolutely and unconditionally?"

Hesitating for a few seconds, Harry nodded slowly and Anya continued to stare at him, scrutinising for something. To his surprise, she cracked a smile. It wasn't her usual small, amused smile which she wore. It was a wide smile, genuine and radiant, her eyes crinkling as her lips tugged upwards. The smile went as fast as it came and her face went back to its calm and grim countenance.

"Then I'm glad we have mutual understanding," Anya threw a standard set of concealment spells over Krum's unconscious body. She turned around and levelled her wand, back facing Harry.

"Face front. Wands up. Stay sharp. Back to back." Anya ordered crisply. "Name me your best combat spells."

Scrambling to his position, Harry faced the encircling acromantulas. The pair now stood back to back, preparing themselves for the inevitable.

"My best would be the Disarming Spell."

"Anything else?" Anya asked, suppressing a snort of disbelief.

"Stupefy, Petrificus Totalus, Reducto..." Harry began listing off spells.

"Reductor Curse or a Blasting Curse if you can," Anya interrupted the ramble. "Keep those as your primary arsenal. Take out the biggest threats you see, I'll focus on crowd control."

"Alright, got it," Harry nodded feverishly. He kept looking around at the swarm of arachnids surrounding them, with more crawling out from the broken walls. Left. Right. Front. Back. There was no way he could cover all directions. He stole a glance back the raven-haired girl. She kept her attention forward, poised for action.

"Seryy, they're all around us," sweat trickled uncomfortably down his forehead. "How am I supposed to handle all this?"

"That's the whole point of being back to back," Anya replied logically. "We cover both sides. When the crowd gets too rowdy on your end and the big threats get too dangerous on my end, we simply switch places."

"What if one of us screws up?"

"That's not going to happen."

"How do you know?" Harry snapped. The clicking sound grew even louder, the acromantulas were going to pounce any moment.

"Absolutely and unconditionally," Anya replied with an unnatural calm. "You see? I'm not the one darting back every few seconds because I know you've got my back. Now, just do the same. We both do our parts and we'll make it out clean."

Harry looked back at Seryy incredulously but found her staying true to her words, she was focused on the eight-legged crowd that was in front of her, leaving her back completely open for him to defend. Taking a deep breath, Harry faced front and steeled himself for what could be a last stand.

The clicking of pincers reached a crescendo and in the moment Anya saw the legs of the acromantulas around her tensing for a leap, she aimed her wand above her.

A blinding white flare erupted from the tip of the wand, hovering a few feet above the two siblings. The sudden burst of illumination interrupted the acromantulas from their pounce, forcing them to scatter. Slashing back downwards, Anya's wand transfigured the surrounding rubbles into feral dogs and a jab of Harry's wand sent a Reductor Curse into the head of the biggest, meanest arachnid he could spot. Around the edges of Anya's vision, familiar red lines made themselves known. They always did this during combat, reminding her that she was in danger, waiting to tighten straight in the moment when her life was in direct threat.

All hell broke loose.

**XXXXX**

There had been 'ohhh's and 'ahhh's, gasps and cheers. But at the moment, a deathly silence smothered the Great Hall in a mood that was oppressively grim, punctuated by hushed nervous whispers and an equally nervous commentary. The house banners that adorned the walls were now replaced with a monolithic banner charmed to display the champions' progress based on what the Observation and Tracking Charms were recording. Long tables and benches used for mealtimes were replaced by rows and rows of chairs. The Great Hall had been converted to a theatre.

Cedric and Poitiers had made it to the exit and left the dungeons. Fleur and Dulovo were cut off from the chamber but had been retrieved by the tournament officials. All that was left to see on the banner were two Hogwarts fourth-years standing back to back, an unconscious Krum – now concealed – in between them and acromantulas surrounding them.

"Well, it looks like Potter and Seryy are preparing themselves for a desperate stand. Officials are still trying to resolve the issue, but there- uh..." Bagman licked his lips nervously. "There seems to be a bit of a... technical issue. N-no worries there, ladies and gentlemen, I'm pretty sure it's all going to be dandy soon."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were whispering heatedly to each other, anxiously waiting for Moody and any of the tournament officials to bring them an update on the situation. The students were all nearing panic, biting their nails and hugging their friends for comfort. Neville had fainted long ago from the sight of all the spiders and a pale-faced Ron looked quite close in following his footsteps.

When Anya shot the flare and the volley of spells began flying loose, there was a collective intake of breaths and several screams throughout the Great Hall. The transfigured dogs formed a protective circle around the duo and leapt at the acromantulas, snapping at the legs and eyes. In addition to a blinding flare that impeded the arachnids' advance, Anya flicked her wand in multiple directions, sending jolting streams of red sparks all over the horde, resulting in rippling flicker of tiny explosions. The spell went off like an ignited crate of firecrackers, flickering bursts of flame and loud rattling showered the acromantulas. It did little harm, but it sent the large crowd scattering away from the pair. However, the larger acromantulas were unfazed by the dogs, lights and firecrackers, the effort from Anya only slowing them down.

Harry focused on targeting the larger acromantulas on his side, well-aimed Reductor Curses making short work of them while the mass of smaller ones scuttled forth. When the swarm on Harry's side and the large acromantulas on Anya's side got too close, the crowd in the Great Hall could see Anya's mouth moving in what lip readers could discern as 'Switch!'

Grabbing the back of Harry's tracksuit, Anya pulled him towards her position while she spun and lunged over to his position. The two barely reached their place before two spells fired off in synchrony, a Blasting Curse tearing up two large acromantulas on one end that were too close for comfort and a firecracker spell sending back droves of smaller acromantulas on the other end.

"Good Godric! Will you look at that," Bagman croaked in shock. "The two are holding their ground."

The staff and students stared in awe as the two worked in harmony, rotating positions every so often. At first, Anya had to be the one to call out when to switch, tugging Harry along. But a few rotations in and neither words nor actions were needed, the two seemed to work in the same mind. One kept the crowd of acromantulas back while the other picked out the big ones that could not be held back.

"Albus, I've got bad news," Moody grunted as he entered the Great Hall from a side entrance, flanked by two tournament officials. "The magic system supporting the Third Task is completely fried. Tournament officials placed too many damn spells there, it couldn't handle the stress. The officials can't get through, neither can I."

"I feared the worse," Dumbledore sighed before rising from his seat. "I'll have to try to fix it myself."

"I don't enjoy being the one who has to say the ugly truth, Albus. But-"

Moody's next words were cut off momentarily when he saw the banner. Seeing Harry Potter amidst the swarm of acromantulas was not what he intended. The boy should have made it out safely with Diggory and Poitiers when he activated that trap. Why in Merlin's name was he still in the chamber?

"But you wouldn't be able to solve this alone," Moody managed to change his intended words without missing a beat. "Filius! Minerva! You'll need to come as well. The sooner we fix this, the better."

The two Head-of-Houses stood up and followed the two aged wizards out of the Great Hall, rushing for the dungeons. Moody moved as fast as his wooden leg could allow him, hoping that he would reach the chamber in time. He intended for the Bulgarian and the Slytherin girl to die, thus reducing the competition for Harry Potter to win the Tournament. After all, the Second Task showed the two of them as the most capable champions and the girl was too sharp and dangerous for her own good. How Harry Potter managed to stumble his way back into the chamber when he was already at the exit was equally confusing and infuriating.

He needed to hurry, before the second phase of his trap sprang.

**XXXXX**

Fifteen minutes passed, they were holding their ground and they were doing it well, the floor was soaked in acromantula blood at this point and the transfigured dogs shattered. No words were needed, the two siblings simply knew when to rotate and trusted the other to move as well. Turn, move, and cast.

"_Reducto_!"

"_Bauzuk_!"

Another fat acromantula vaporised and a widespread ripple of explosions scattered the swarm back. Anya was drenched in sweat, more so from magical strain and physical. The sounds of Harry's ragged breathing told her that he was just as tired. The red lines in her vision twisted a little more tightly, as it had been doing throughout the entire onslaught. If no help came soon, they would soon be in dangerous waters.

Even more dread pooled in her stomach when the chamber was hit with another wave of tremors. So far, tremors only meant that things were about to dive further down the rabbit hole. Anya drew in a sharp breath as the snapped and broken lines that surrounded the chamber whirled into a frenzy, compressed itself and exploded. The ensuing shockwave was more magical than physical as Anya felt her breath taken away. Black lines flew all over her vision, clouding the chamber like a thick fog.

"_Reducto_!"

No spell came from Harry's wand and he gaped at his failed wand in shock.

"Fuck." That was the sole word Anya uttered before she scrambled onto the floor, biting viciously on her hand. Blood trickled from her bite and using her other hand, she smeared blood on her fingers. With desperate haste, she began drawing out runes on the floor. "Potter! Give me fifteen seconds! Don't die! Don't let me die!"

Black lines as dark as an ink-filled void. Null magic. A rare occurrence that – as its name implies – nullifies all nearby magic, essentially a magical EMP. The dread in Anya's stomach tripled when she realised the implication of this. Null magic took a lot of specific circumstances to manifest, the odds of it happening in a collapse of a magical system was one in a thousand. There was no way it was coincidence, someone engineered this, someone wanted her dead.

Harry stumbled about helplessly before composing himself and hissing loudly at the acromantulas, the arachnids back off in surprise at the sound of their mortal foes. Anya busied herself with the blood runes, four sigils at each corner of a three metre circle with a smaller circle in the centre. The acromantulas paused momentarily at the resurgent tremor and Harry's Parseltongue, pincers clicking in confusion before slowly approaching their prey once more. With the finishing touches to the runic circle complete, Anya rubbed her bitten hand on the small circle at the centre, aggravating the wound to release more blood onto it. Wizarding blood was innately magical, providing a fuel source for the runic circle. Muttering a runic activation incantation and forcing in a good measure of willpower, bronze lines sprung up in a hemisphere, pushing the black away.

Harry felt his wand warming up, coming back to life. He had to admit, Anya truly was a prodigy in Runes. It was about time too, the acromantulas were edging closer.

"Nice one, Seryy."

"Not yet, needs more blood. _Diffindo_."

Had it not been for some of the still present null magic, she would have severed her arm completely. Her arm tore open, allowing for blood to gush into the circle, which the circle absorbed ravenously. Anya wheezed out in pain and saw the bronze lines glow and widen, pushing the black even further away until there was no null magic around them.

"POTTER! SPELLS!"

There was no further instructions needed as Harry sent a Blasting Curse at the closest acromantula, blowing it open in a spew of mushy parts. Another Blasting Curse from Anya took out another large acromantula, but the arachnids have gotten too close.

From the corner of her eye, Anya saw an acromantula leap from Harry's side as he was firing a Reductor Curse at another acromantula. High on adrenaline and clouded by pain, she reacted on instinct and lunged to shove Harry aside. The moment her feet left the ground, the red lines in her vision drew taut.

She knew.

There was no turning back.

No dodging.

No coming out unharmed.

Her shoulder slammed Harry out of the way as pincers sank into her back. She shrieked in pain as the venom burned through her body, the searing sensation piercing into her bones. The arachnid landed onto her and drove its pincers deeper, Anya swung her wand to the acromantula's sternum and jabbed it hard enough to break its skin.

"_CONFRINGO_!" screamed Anya, the point blank Blasting Curse showered the place with the acromantula's remains. Summoning the pincers out of her back, Anya rolled over and writhed in agonising pain.

"Seryy!" Harry cried out as he climbed back to his feet and rushed over to Anya, firing a Reductor Curse at a pouncing acromantula. He made his way over to Anya and pulled her off the floor. He tried to find a way out, but the acromantulas were all over them at this point.

"Potter, Impervius Charm. All of us, don't forget Krum," Anya forced the words out with gritted teeth, struggling to claw her way up with as the venom burdened her movement. "Followed by a Shield Charm, aim on the floor."

Harry rushed to obey without hesitation. Casting the spells as the acromantulas closed in what little gap there was.

"_Impervius. Impervius. Impervius. Protego_!"

No sooner had the words leave Harry's mouth than Anya bellowed at the top of her lungs.

"_FULGUR MAXIMA_!"

Arcs of bright blue lightning lanced from her wandtip. The paralytic effects from the venom prevented her from aiming, but the blood from both her runic circle and the slain acromantulas provided all the conductors she needed to kill the acromantulas without aiming. Bolts of lightning snaked through the pools viscous liquid on the floor, electrocuting the surrounding acromantulas.

The arachnids went into a crazed spasm before collapsing on the floor, either dead or paralysed. Smoke filled the air and a nauseating stench filled their nose. By then, the overexertion, blood loss and acromantula venom had taken a toll on Anya's body. Darkness took over and she slid back onto the floor, passing out and twitching from the effects of the venom.

"Oh Merlin, Seryy! Seryy!" yelled Harry, shaking her unconscious figure. He turned around to see more acromantulas scuttling in from the holes in the walls. "Bloody hell..."

Thankfully, rescue came in the form of Dumbledore, Moody, Flitwick and McGonagall. Stones at covered the exit were shifted aside magically, the raw power of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot brought to bear, aided by Moody and Professor McGonagall. Professor Flitwick busied himself in stabilising the haywire magic in the area, swishing his wand while muttering incantations. Dumbledore rushed over to the champions, with Tournament officials and mediwizards in tow.

A wide sweep of Dumbledore's wand and the acromantulas were all set ablaze. Professor McGonagall and Moody rushed to seal off the holes in the walls and ceilings leaving the chamber safe for the mediwizards to attend to the champions. Anya was quickly strapped onto a levitating stretcher and a mediwizard immediately shoved a temporary antidote and a Blood-Replenishing Potion down her throat.

The concealment spells on Krum were removed and he too was strapped onto a stretcher. Harry tried to resist, to busy worrying for Anya's health as she had shoved him away only to be attacked by an acromantula. However, the mediwizards were adamant in having him lie down, and thus Harry was forced onto a stretcher as well. The exhaustion finally found its way into Harry's senses and he simply allowed the darkness of sleep to take over him.

**XXXXX**

"Look! He's waking up!"

"Quiet down, Ronald. Madam Pomfrey will kick us out if you're too loud."

With a groan, Harry finally woke up, feeling his entire body aching. His throat was dry and the pangs of hunger hit him immediately. After all, he missed breakfast during the Third Task because he woke up to find himself in the dungeons. He was in the Hospital Wing, lying on a bed. In front him were Ron and Hermione, sitting on wooden chairs and looking at him with expressions of concern.

"How long was I out?" Harry asked.

"Not that long mate, it has only been a few hours," Ron answered while Hermione poured him a glass of water which he gratefully accepted. "Dinner just ended half an hour ago. The lot of you gave Madam Pomfrey a big shock."

"I can imagine that," Harry snorted as he sipped the glass of water. "What happened after the Task?"

"Big fiasco, everyone panicked, the teachers panicked, Bagman panicked," said Ron. "Imagine the shock when the screen went blank after the tremor at the chamber. And when it came back, it was you with an unconscious Krum and Seryy, surrounded by smoking dead spiders."

"We were so worried," said Hermione, bringing Harry into a bone-crushing hug before hitting him hard on the shoulder repeatedly, forcing Harry to bring his pillow up to shield himself from her fists. "What on earth were you thinking? You were at the exit and the place was going to collapse. What did you do? You ran _back_ to the swarm of acromantulas? Are you mad? You could have died."

"He didn't though," Ron grinned happily. "Got off with forty-eight points."

"Forty-eight points!?" Harry spluttered.

"That's right," Ron said brightly. "For showing bravery and moral fibre by going back for your fellow champions when they were in dire straits. Also that bit with the whole taking down a horde of acromantula by yourself probably helped."

"Oh yeah! How did you manage to do that?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry was pretty sure he was not on the same page as his friends.

"Didn't you remember?" Ron pressed. "The last we saw in the Great Hall, you and Seryy were surrounded by acromantulas. The charm that showed you guys broke for a while, when it came back it showed you and an unconscious Seryy and all the acromantulas were dead. You took them all down yourself, right?

"What!?" Harry repeated, the gears in his head turning. "That wasn't me! That was Seryy, she was the one who did it before passing out."

"Oh well..." Ron grinned. "Too late for that mate, just accept the damn points and stop being a Hufflepuff."

"I can't just take credit for her work," Harry protested. "How is she and Krum? Are they alright?"

"Krum's alright," Hermione answered, ignoring Ron's indignant huff at the mention of the Bulgarian. "Just a bad concussion, nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix. Seryy had it much worse, acromantula venom is a nasty thing."

Harry sank back into his pillow, wallowing in guilt. She took a blow for him and he took her points, hardly fair. Soon enough, Madam Pomfrey came to chase Ron and Hermione out, stating that he needed rest.

"Madam Pomfrey, is it alright if I checked on Seryy?"

"Now, Mr Potter, you really need to rest. Furthermore, I don't think you should be disturbing Ms Seryy."

"I'm alright, I wasn't the one who got injured," Harry protested. "And Seryy really saved me back there, I should at least see if she's alright in return."

"Well..." Madam Pomfrey grew flustered at the reasoning, professionalism fighting with morality. "I still think you shouldn't see her."

"Come on, Madam Pomfrey. I owe her this," pleaded Harry.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, silently cursing the soft spot she had nursed for this Gryffindor.

"Fine... make it quick, and I want to see you back in bed when I get back," Madam Pomfrey relented. "And not a word about her scars to other people, I'm sure she hid them to prevent an embarrassment."

"Huh, scars?"

"Yes, I had to flush her body from all magical interference to rid her of the acromantula venom. It removed the glamour charms that she apparently had, revealing scars all over her body. Now go, and remember, be back in bed don't go spouting out other people's secrets."

Nodding in confusion, Harry made his way down to Anya's bed, pulling the curtains open. His jaw dropped, disbelief in his eyes. All the past suspicions that he had once harboured came back in full force.

"Anne!?"

* * *

**AN: Is this... a cliffhanger? It was only a matter of time.**


	15. Chapter 15 - Revelation

**AN: Just to clear any confusion, the Third Task is not the final task. I may have been a little low-key on mentioning it, but in here, Second Task was on January and Third Task was on February which is when the canon Second Task took place. There will be a Fourth Task. Other than that, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 15 - Revelation

Air seemed to gush into Harry's lungs and stayed there, gripping his chest ever so tightly. There it was, on her right eye, a scar running down. She looked as though she just woke up, she probably did. Her untied hair was a little messy, a groggy look on her face and the bandages Madam Pomfrey had placed were peeking out from the neckline of her hospital garb. She was still lying on the bed, her eyes locked on Harry.

There was no doubt about it, the scar was there. She hid it, why she did it Harry did not know, but one thing was sure.

Anne Potter was lying right in front of him.

Slowly, he started to breathe again and when it started, it got faster. His heart was pounding and his eyes began to water. Time slowly came to a still as the two siblings looked at one another.

"A-Anne...Anne?" Harry croaked as a tear crept down his cheek. "Is t-th-that you?"

His sister did not respond, she only stared at him blankly, as though there was something interesting on his face.

"Do you know who you are?" Still she said nothing.

_Just say something Anne, anything. I know it's you._

**XXXXX**

The jig was up, Anya could see it her brother's face. She looked at her brother and into the green eyes they both shared. It was so sad, so pitiful and so very familiar. Though the colour of the eyes were the same, it wasn't what made it familiar. It was the painful emotions fighting to claw out that was so familiar, the grief and tears spilled over family.

She never saw it in herself, maybe once. No, she saw it elsewhere, saw it in back a phosgene-filled town, the orphan boy who was clinging on to the body of his lifeless sister.

She had a family back in Arkhangelsk, not one by blood but one by bonds forged through being together thick and thin. Her brother did not, she heard enough from Malfoy to gather that much, the people he lived with were not worthy of being called family.

Was this why it hurt her brother so much? To have no one you call family except the one in front of you who wouldn't even acknowledge you. The desperation in his voice, the slight tremble of his body, the heart burning need for the warm embrace of family. These were all so clear to Anya, Harry's face spoke a thousand words.

Maybe she had been a little selfish, ignoring her brother to preserve her anonymity. She never really understood how badly her brother was lacking in affection, until right now as she looked into the eyes so similar to the ones she saw long ago. Anya pondered over what to do before she came to her choice, it was just like Vladivostok.

Was her safety more important, or her brother?

**XXXXX**

Anya stirred a little after a minute of blank staring. She lifted her arm and with the slightest curl of her fingers, beckoned Harry towards her. Harry edged towards the bed, his feet shuffling forward. As he neared the bed, the girl leaned forward to him and extended the arm she had just used. Slowly, her hands closed on the fabric of his shirt and she weakly pulled. There was no resistance and Harry came closer to the girl, transfixed by what was happening. Her other arm went unnoticed by Harry until it gently cupped the back of his head, guiding his head to her shoulders. It felt warm and comforting. Her thumb was rubbing soothing circles on the back of his head.

"I know," her breath whispered out softly, her eyes closed partially as they relaxed, a glint of emerald showing. "I know who I am, brother."

Brother. She said it. She knew.

Harry wrapped his arms around Anya, holding on tightly with the fear that she might vanish if he ever let go. All the while, the thumb rubbed the back of his head soothingly. Tears were freely leaking from his eyes as he pressed his face into his sister's shoulder. He felt very giddy, his mind a whirlwind of feelings. He kept the embrace for minutes, hours or maybe even days, he didn't care, it feel so peaceful and serene.

Slowly, Anya removed the hand behind Harry's head and the other hand that still gripped his shirt gently pushed back. Harry complied with the girl's silent order, but he still held on to her gently nonetheless, treating her like delicate glassware.

"Harry."

Hearing her speak to him by his first name sounded like music to his ears. It was almost like a dream.

"Do you trust me? Absolutely and unconditionally?" she was not longer relaxed. Her face was serious now, eyes boring into his. She suddenly seemed very familiar and Harry realised why.

He heard those exact same words hours ago. It was the same words that lead to the two of them covering each other's backs in the maze. Those words could have been what made her to put herself in harm's way to protect him. It was also the words that allowed her sister – who had only known him for months – to face her back to him, completely relying on him to protect her and doing so with such absolute trust.

Harry wanted her to trust him just like that, once again and always.

"Yes," said Harry with a firm nod.

Anya leaned back onto the pillow, slowly letting out a sigh. It could have been one of relief or just a tired one, Harry could not tell.

"Alright, then here's the baseline," Anya said softly. "Nobody is to know to about this, nobody knows I exist and it will stay that way, just you and me in this little secret. I had my reasons for keeping this knowledge to myself, you need to trust me on this."

"Nobody?" echoed Harry. "What about my friends, Ron and Hermione? They know about you, Sirius told them. Heck, what about Sirius? He deserves to know out of everyone."

"Who's Sirius?" Anya asked quizzically, tilting her head in confusion. "How does he know about me?"

"He our godfather," Harry answered. "He's the one to pick us from our parents' house when Voldemort attacked. He's the one who healed you up when Voldemort cursed your eye."

"Wait, Sirius as in Sirius Black the escaped mass murder with a thirteen man body count?"

"Yeah, that one," Harry said sheepishly. "He's innocent though, believe me."

"Yeah, I believe you," Anya snorted. "You're a shit liar."

"Well?"

There was a moment of silence, Anya simply mulled over his words.

"I'll think about it," she said softly. "We can discuss this tomorrow, I'm still tired and I should rest, you too Harry."

Harry nodded, hugging Anya once more. She let him do so. When he grabbed both her arms, wanting to say a goodbye, she suddenly stiffened.

_"Jen, what's wrong?"_

_"It's Crow, she just froze."_

"_Red lines, I see red lines."_

_An explosion of pain._

_Her world was falling._

Harry noticed the movement and quickly removed his hands from her. That was when he realised what Madam Pomfrey was talking about.

_"Sniper fire! Everybody get down! Shields!"_

_The pain was gone. But she couldn't feel anything else._

_There was movement all around her. But it was a wild blur._

_She realised she was lying on the ground._

Even though she was wearing a hospital garb, he could still see scars on her arms and neck. Most were scars from cuts and scrapes, nothing big.

_Blood all around her. All of them her own._

_The smell was familiar. Sinisterly soothing almost._

_"Stasis spells, now!"_

_"She's already in shock. Blood-Replenishing Potion and a transfusion, ASAP!"_

The biggest scars were the one on her right eye and a large, thick scar that encompassed her right arm. A scar he accidentally grabbed.

_She could barely feel the slick sensation of blood that was starting to soak her clothes._

_The voices were growing fainter. She could barely see._

_But the arm that laid several feet away from her was in the centre of her vision._

_She realised it was her arm._

"Anne, what is this? What happened?" Anya didn't answer the question, she merely smiled and grabbed her brother's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Rest."

"No, tell me. What happened? Are you alright?" Harry asked, his voice dripping with concern.

Anya chuckled, it was adorable and slightly heartwarming to see her brother immediately start to mollycoddle him.

"It's nothing," she gave him a small smile. "Just an old injury. Go and rest, I find Madam Pomfrey to be a very strict woman in the short time I have gotten to know her."

Harry finally relented, making his way back to his bed and lying down. His head felt dizzy, completely overloaded from all the information that he had received. A part of him felt relieved, she seemed fine after the close call that was the Third Task. Another part of him felt elated, his gut had been right the whole time, Anya Seryy was Anne Potter. It seemed almost surreal but strangely fitting, it explained why he never saw her before. She was off in Russia.

This left another part of him feeling worried, the revelation seemed to open up even more questions. What had she been doing in Russia? And all the scars on her body did anything but reassure Harry. He too had scars on his body, one from Voldemort, too many from the Dursleys. Was that why she came to Hogwarts? To escape from her life in Russia?

His worry for Anne- Anya... whichever it was, seemed to grow even more. He remembered seeing all the scars on her body, evidence of a life of pain nobody should endure, and he came to a conclusion.

He was going to have to take care of his sister.

**XXXXX**

"_Nephew, hurry up. You know the importance of punctuality_," an old man said in Russian.

Nathaniel nodded stiffly and widened his strides to match the old man's pace, Grey was always agile despite his age. Tourists milled about the place, ecstatically snapping photographs of the soldiers. Three guards marching in step with their drab grey greatcoats, ushankas and rifles, another attraction in the Red Square. The scattered snowflakes that gently floated down gave an air of peace and quiet, the Muggles had it easy, Nathaniel sorely wished he could be elsewhere.

"Who's coming?" Nathaniel stuck to English.

"_Physically? Not a lot. But everyone is going to want to hear what they have to say. Their bloc has never been that lively in a century_."

The pair of ashen-haired men walked across the square, exiting the place and heading for the unique, colourful and dome-tipped building that was Saint Basil's Cathedral. More tourist loitered the place, posing in front with their families and friends for postcards to send home.

"We're being followed."

"_I noticed, that'll be Sergei's men_."

"He's coming too?" there was a hint of surprise in his speech.

"_No doubt, he may be reclusive, but this is big. From what your little demons have discovered, I dare say this is the biggest move the White has made_."

"Not just from Dimitri and Wei Jen, I've had reports from all over. Something is up, everyone knows."

Grey stayed silent as two made their way up the steps entered the cathedral, walking down the tourist filled hallways. A turn around a corridor that none of the Muggles seemed to notice and two entered a spacious room. Velvet chairs were spaced apart in a wide circle and already half of them were occupied.

"_Grey, Nathaniel, welcome_," greeted a blond, middle-aged man dressed in fine robes. The man presented himself in a sophisticated manner, some saw him debonair, Nathaniel saw an oily man.

"_Bagrationi_," Grey nodded, settling himself onto one of the chairs. Nathaniel stood beside him.

"_Is this everyone? Or are we expecting more_?" asked a tall man who sat beside Bagrationi, drumming his fingers lazily on his armrest.

Nathaniel regarded the tall man, he had a cropped hair and his muscles could be noticed even with the layers he was wearing. A fine image for the Russian Minister of Magic, a shame he was absolutely powerless, the man knew it himself. Behind the facade of calm boredom, there was a nervousness in his eyes. He was here at the whim of the men around him and he still held the title of Minister because they had yet to see a reason otherwise.

"_Sergei is coming_," said Grey, testing the figurative waters.

Nobody responded to that statement, but there was a noticeable change of atmosphere. A few, including the Minister, shifted uneasily, the grin on Bagrationi's face widened. An uneasy silence fell over the group once more as they awaited their final participant.

After ten minutes, the door creaked open to reveal a balding, stout man on a wheelchair, pushed in by an Auror dressed in standard black mask and blue combat robes. The man surveyed the group before him, his thick moustache twitching. When he spoke, his voice came out in a low growl.

"_Well, what's this important matter that I keep hearing about? So important that I have to momentarily abandon the task of babysitting the ministry and the country_."

The Minister seemed like he was about to protest over the finer details of the second sentence, but decided against it.

"_It_ is _important, Sergei_," Bagrationi declared. "_It could very well provide an influx of revenue this country so desperately needs. After all, the lack of funding has always been one of your chief complaints._"

Sergei arched an eyebrow.

"_Carry on_."

"_There has been much discussion among my bloc as to the methods of revitalising our motherland. And after much work, I believe that a strategic partnership with the British Ministry is very much within our grasp_."

All eyes flew to Sergei when Bagrationi finished his words, Nathaniel could understand why. _Official, government-sanctioned, internationally noticed_ matters had always fallen under Sergei's domain, after all he was unofficially in charge of the ministry's foreign relations and Auror Corps among many, many other things. Bagrationi was somewhat trespassing. No wonder the Minister was here, this was something that the British Ministry and International Confederation of Wizards would have to be informed off, official channels where required for something so big.

"_And how did you manage to achieve this_?" Sergei's eyes narrowed at the blonde.

"_Discussions and negotiations here and there_," Bagrationi commented casually. "_Nothing much, you'll be amazed at the amount of foreign interest there is on Russia if you took the time to look_."

"_Well, Minister? What are your views_?" someone from the side asked sweetly.

"_I see nothing wrong with it_," the Minister said slowly with much fluster. "_If this is pulled off the right way, there could be much benefit. Our country has been isolated for long enough, as far as the general public is concerned anyways_."

"_And what exactly is the right way_?" another asked.

Nathaniel smirked, he could swear they were playing with the Minister by asking those questions.

"_I'll let the rest of you settle the finer the details_," the Minister deflected.

Smart move.

"_Sergei_?"

The man in question did not reply, drew out a cigar and stuck it in his mouth. With a deep exhale, the tip of the cigar lit up. Soon, the smell of tobacco filled the air and the man took his time to answer the question.

"_You can begin drafting out a proposal. If it is satisfactory, then I don't see any problems with it_."

The Minister turned to face the Grey.

"_Grey, what about you? Do you have anything to say_?"

Sergei gave a short roar of laughter, pulling out his cigar to release a plume of smoke.

"_Minister, Grey doesn't say. He acts. You'll find out soon if he approves_."

Another minute of silence passed before Bagrationi broke the peace, growing oilier than Nathaniel thought possible.

"_If that is all, I do believe the meeting is over. I, for one, have places to be_."

"_The same here_," Sergei nodded, gesturing for the Auror to push him out. "_Vasily, do remember to come by soon. I need to have a word with you_."

A man with long beard nodded before standing up and excusing himself out as well. One by one, everyone vacated the room and soon the cathedral.

"What are your thoughts, uncle?" said Nathaniel as the two of them left the cathedral.

"_The disabled one is getting on my nerves, and I'm not talking about the one on the wheelchair_."

"No wonder the slime was so confident, he's bringing in outside muscle. They're bent on shifting the scales."

"_It is a power play, a simple intimidation tactic_," Grey mused. "_But one must wonder what makes this one so special, the Whites have always been relying on outside help_."

"Sergei must be confident himself, letting Bagrationi run free."

"_It's not confidence, he's eager to get in on Britain too, there's no better chance than this_."

"But Bagrationi initiates the terms, he has a head start on all of us."

"_Diplomatically, yes. But he's not a Spook, people like Sergei and Leo are better players_."

"Movement of agents and information will be critical. Sergei does have the advantage here," Nathaniel agreed.

"_Never mind him, he and I have always seen eye to eye. Leo is the one we have to watch out for, one does not simply keep their position during the Red's collapse without reason_."

The pair had entered the Red Square once more and headed to the local apparition point.

"It'll be hard for all sides to slip agents into Britain undetected now that open season is being declared," Nathaniel stated as he did a check for anyone tailing them. "Everyone will be watching the borders."

"_We have Dimitri_," Grey scoffed. "_And you forget that you have already planted an agent in Britain, though unknowingly_."

"I sent her there to give her a break from all this," Nathaniel's eyes narrowed on his uncle.

"_Worry not, Nathaniel_," Grey waved his nephew's concerns away. "_I don't intent on activating her immediately, she has a Triwizard Tournament to participate. Next year_."

"Next year is her OWL year."

"_And are you seriously doubting her_?" Grey sneered. "_It's only three OWLs_."

"One year is too short a break," Nathaniel insisted. "And her break has been long overdue, two years overdue. Do you know, she still goes into a panic attack when she hears that siren?"

"_One year was enough for me to overcome such petty things_," Grey reminded his nephew, eyes hard as steel. "_And for your information, one year was enough for your father_."

"It's a very separate incident, and she not a prodigy unlike you and father."

"_No, but she is quite exceptional herself_."

"We discuss this later."

"_Indeed we will_."

**XXXXX**

Harry woke up with a start. He was still in the Hospital Wing, recovering from the Third Task. Madam Pomfrey insisted he stayed overnight, and for once, he did not complain.

The memories from previous evening rushed into his head and he found himself grinning. It felt like a fresh start, a new beginning. He had a real family now, and suddenly this year did not seem so bad. And Anya did not seem so bad as a person, sure she was very silent, kept to herself and occasionally cold. But if anything, the desperate moments of the Third Task revealed her true colours in Harry's opinion. A fearless girl with a radiant smile whom you could trust your life with.

Like an energetic five year old, he tore off his blanket and approached his sister's bed, curious to see how she was doing. The girl in question was already awake, helping herself to a breakfast in bed.

"Hello."

"You can ask Madam Pomfrey to send a house elf for breakfast if you're feeling hungry," the girl told him casually before putting another spoon of porridge in her mouth, not sparing him a glance.

"Are you feeling alright?" Harry asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Anya took her time to swallow before answering the question.

"Fine, Madam Pomfrey says I just need another day to flush out the venom completely."

"That's actually quite fast," Harry said with a smile. "Good too, how'd you recover so quickly? Merlin knows she tries to keep me locked up here all too often."

She simply gave him a shrug and carried on with her breakfast

Harry's confusion slowly gnawed on his happiness. There she was acting all aloof again like the beginning of the year, as though he still didn't know who she was. What happened to the empathetic girl who had held him gently as he broke down in tears? Was it all in the heat of the moment, or did she really not care?

"Anne-"

"Goodness gracious, don't call me that," Anya muttered, loud enough for Harry to hear. "What part of yesterday's 'our little secret' did you not understand? And no one has called me that ever."

"Sorry, sorry," Harry hastily backpedalled. "It's just... what's going on with you? I just can't understand you, I thought after yesterday's heart to heart, we'd be alright with each other. Why are you still so cold to me?"

"I hardly know you," Anya shrugged once more, taking another bite of her porridge.

"And you're not giving me a chance?"

"I'm still talking to you, aren't I?" said Anya coolly, finishing the last of her porridge and draining down a glass of pumpkin juice. Her breakfast promptly vanished, courtesy of the Hogwarts house elves.

"Then, about Sirius," Harry said firmly. "I think he needs to know."

"Why's that? One person knowing is already one person too much."

"Please," Harry pleaded. "I'm begging you, give me a chance, give him a chance."

"Can he be trusted?"

"Of course."

There was a few seconds pause before Anya replied.

"Fine, if you happen to find a way to contact him that is," Anya sighed. "Remember, _no one else is to know_, not the teachers and definitely not your friends."

Another statement that opened a can of worms. Harry could not help but wonder why Anya was so secretive about her identity. So many things seemed strange, her Russian background, her scars and her eye. He remembered Sirius mentioning that Voldemort had cursed her right eye but there it was, shining in defiance to the Dark Lord's act.

There was just so many things he didn't know about his sister.

"Anya?" Harry asked tentatively, to which Anya simply hummed in acknowledgement. "What happened to your right eye, Sirius said that Voldemort cursed it."

"It recovered."

"How?"

There came the shrug again, vexing Harry once more. Harry opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey.

"Mr Potter, Ms Seryy, glad to see the both of you doing well." Madam Pomfrey performed a few diagnostic spells on Harry and Anya before deeming Harry fit for discharge.

After being shooed off to his own bed to change out of his own hospital garb, Harry paid Anya one last visit to say goodbye.

"I'll see you soon, I guess."

"Remember, no one else is to know," Anya reminded him.

"What's with all this secrecy?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Just trust me and keep a tight lip," said Anya coolly. "You don't need to know."

"As your brother, I think I have a right to know," said Harry indignantly.

"Yeah, and I'm denying you that right," Anya chuckled, completely unfazed by his tone. "Relax, just because we're siblings doesn't mean we have to know everything about each other. Don't siblings _normally_ keep secrets from one another?"

"You keep too many secrets," Harry retorted. "I don't know a single thing about you."

"Honestly, I'd like to keep it that way."

"Why's that?" pressed Harry, before recalling her scars and asking more questions. "Is someone after you? Are you in danger?

"At the moment, the only one _after me_ is you, Harry," Anya rolled her eyes. "And you are hardly dangerous. Enough talk, your endearing fans await you at the Great Hall."

Harry took that as a goodbye and nodded, leaving Anya to rest. He made his way out of the Hospital Wing, towards what he was sure would be an unending interrogation by his housemates.

**XXXXX**

Anya watched her brother leave and snuggled back into her comfy pillows, enjoying the solace. Her body still ached badly and the aftereffects of the venom still screened her mind from normal thinking, she felt like she was dipped in Arctic waters. She wanted out, out from this pain and there was a solution for it in the Hospital Wing. Temptation pulled at the back of her mind, itching into her skull.

She tried to swat it away, digging deeper into her pillows but the mental itch soon turned into a literal shiver. Her mind and body was screaming for it at this point, it had underwent trauma and stress multiple times throughout her life but this was the first time it had done so without aid. Aid was what her body desperately sought, telling her to seek it through shivers and soon a splitting headache. She had told Harry to leave her to rest yesterday because she was frantically carving for sleep, not because she was tired but because she wanted to delay this, desperately hoping that she would wake up without problems.

Before she realised it, she was on her feet, staggering to the potions cupboard after making sure Madam Pomfrey was occupied in her office. Riffling through the shelves, she saw what her mind and body was forcing her find. She snatched up a familiar looking vial of orange liquid, pulling out the stopper. She took a deep breath, smelling the tantalising aroma of the potion. The Invigoration Draught greeted her like an old friend as she forced the potion down her throat with a mad hunger, her body soaking up all the familiar senses.

Fresh energy surged through her veins, peeling off the weary feeling of sick exhaustion. The headache cleared and the shivering stopped, everything became so lucid and clear. Standing up and staying balanced seemed so effortless unlike a minute ago where action placed a strain on her weak body. Her body groaned in delighted at the long-carved sensation. Warmth coursed through her body and her violent shivering gave way to a relaxed shudder.

Immediately, her body carved for more, imploring her to keep herself at a high. A hand reached out for another bottle, but she fell onto her knees. The hand went to her head instead, dragging through her locks of hair. Anya grasped her hair tightly and sighed in resignation, scrunching her eyes up in disappointment. Six months, she lasted six months. She got back onto her feet, making her way back to her bed. She stowed the empty vial under her pillow, hiding it as she had always been doing for eight years.

* * *

**AN: Upload pace may slow down since I've been doing things like re-reading lengthy fics like Delenda Est(good fic, give it a shot if you haven't) instead of actually writing this xD(No flame pls). Still, I try to cater time for this and may actually keep to my self-imposed weekly upload schedule. Fingers crossed and of course, reviews help.**


	16. Chapter 16 - Trip Down Hogsmeade

**AN: What do you know? Upload pace did _not_ slow down, enjoy. Also, not a vision, a memory.**

* * *

Chapter 16 – Trip Down Hogsmeade

True to Anya's prediction, Harry found himself interrogated by both the student population, the teachers and the Tournament officials regarding what happened during the Third Task. Anya herself was spared from this as she was in the Hospital Wing. Word soon spread around Hogwarts regarding the incident that was the Third Task.

Different people had different takes to the whole debacle. The Gryffindors begrudgingly developed a newfound respect for Anya after Harry had vehemently described her role in pushing him away from danger. The Slytherins' hate for Harry grew even further as they then accused him of stealing Anya's credit since he received the most points from the Third Task, there was also some ill will towards Anya as she had even bothered to push Harry out of danger, not that Anya really cared about what her house thought.

There was inquiry into the Third Task which ended in a conclusion that the magical system operating the dungeons simply overloaded from excessive strain of spells despite the various safety measures in place. This did not bode well with Anya, the perpetrator had gotten away scot-free. It also did not bode well with Karkaroff, who made the biggest fuss out of all this.

However, none of that mattered now as Anya sat herself in a corner of the library, glamour charms covering her scars once more. She flipped through her copy of _Spellman's Syllabary_ idly, glancing at the pages with boredom, she had long committed most of the runes to heart. Instead, more of her attention went towards her scrap papers filled with rough sketches and workings of different possible runic scripts.

"Seryy, you're early," said a mildly surprised Hermione who arrived by her table.

"We Slytherins had a free period before this, so I figured 'might as well'." Anya explained, noticing her brother tagging behind Hermione. "What is he doing here?"

"Oh, Harry?" Hermione looked at him and back to Anya. "He wanted to come along to do his own homework with me when I said I was going to the library to do my Runes project with you. You don't mind, do you?"

_Goodness gracious._

Anya hummed in response, waving at the seats opposite of her. Hermione complied, taking the offered seat and bringing out her study items from her bag, Harry followed suit and gave Anya a small grin. Anya looked around her to ensure her location was isolated from the rest of the library, she then took the time to mentally refresh herself with the Memory Charm in the event it was required.

"So, let's get right down at it, shall we?" Hermione initiated the discussion, flipping open a copy of _A Practical Application of Runes_ and turning to the chapter on healing runes. "I think we should go for the theme of healing, it's finicky and difficult. A good challenge for us and if we pull it off, an Outstanding for Runes will be in the bag. Furthermore, I think it has good real-life applications. It gives people untrained in healing a simple solution for temporary first aid, like a magical first aid kit and it can be reusable unlike healing potions."

Deciding to let the Gryffindor take the lead, Anya simply nodded in response.

"So, I was thinking of which language to use," Hermione continued without pausing to take a breath, which frankly surprised Anya. "Egyptian and Sumerian will probably be good choices. After all, we just learnt them this year and it will be good practice for the NEWTs as I've heard that they are quite intense on those languages."

"You go ahead," Anya shrugged. "I'm not taking NEWTs. After the OWLs, I'm going back to Russia."

There was a loud disturbance in the form of a spluttering Harry who looked at Anya with the face of complete shock. Hermione had an offended look at her instead.

"Nah, just kidding Granger, you're right on the practice," Anya grinned. "As you said, let's get right down at it, I can start looking up on Egyptian runes and you can start with Sumerian- Harry, is there a problem?"

Both girls turned to stare at Harry who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Harry's mouth was gaping wide open as his brain tried to come up with a response. Finally, he closed his mouth and turned back to his Potions essay, muttering a soft 'no'.

"When did you start calling him Harry?" Hermione faced Anya and narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Since the Third Task," Anya responded easily, she had decided some time ago to actually give her brother a chance at whatever he was planning. "Going through a life or death predicament does that to you."

To Anya's surprise, Hermione broke into a grin that spoke of complete intimate understanding. Apparently her brother did have a penchant for risking his neck to save others. Next to Hermione, Harry cracked a wide grin of his own.

"As I was saying," Anya continued. "You do Sumerian runes. Once done, we can compare notes and pick out a suitable one. As for the basic premise of the runic system, I've got rough skeleton sketches that is applicable for all languages."

Anya handed over her scrap papers to Hermione, who looked over them with growing surprise.

"These work?" gasped Hermione.

"Yes," Anya nodded, pointing out to her workings at the side. "Change the coefficients and variables of this, this and this according to the language you use. Then, alter the type of side scripts accordingly. Mind you, they may not work with healing runes because – as you said – they are finicky."

"Mind if I copy these down for future reference?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Sure, why not?"

Hermione drew her wand out and immediately began duplicating the pieces of paper with a feverish excitement.

"Seryy, this is amazing. These aren't part of our textbooks, you're not even supposed to arrange runes in a matrix such as this."

"Just because it's not in the textbooks doesn't mean you can't do it, it's more efficient this way."

"But still," Hermione voiced her concerns over Anya's style of runic design. "This looks highly unstable, the whole point of different formats for each runic theme is that different languages and purposes require vastly different requirements. To just try and standardise all of them into a single format with standardised components is just-"

"Something Muggles do all the time in mass production?" Anya interrupted with a roll of her eyes that was more amused than exasperated. "Standardised batteries, standardised nuts and bolts, same operating system for their computers? Ring any bells there?"

Hermione's mouth gaped opened in shock from her words, whether it was due to her reasoning, her knowledge in Muggle technologies or even how she guessed Hermione's Muggle heritage Anya did not know. Anya noticed that Harry had lost his focus on his Potions essay and was instead straining to catch on to the conversation.

"Well, I certainly never thought of it that way," Hermione admitted. "But will this actually work? I still think we should follow the textbook examples."

"Take it from the girl who actually used Active Runes in a Triwizard Tournament," Anya assured the brunette. "It's fine, let's focus on getting down the requirements for healing runes and we can discuss this later."

The two girls soon settled down into silence as each did their own part, occasionally consulting one another. Harry, for the most part, kept to himself – much to Anya's surprise. It was only when their study session was coming to an end that Harry spoke up.

"Anya, it's a Hogsmeade weekend this week. Feel like joining us? I owe you one after the Third Task," Harry asked cheerily. However, Hermione threw him a reproachful glare.

"Can't say I'm all that eager Harry," Anya said in the middle of packing her items. "What's it in for me?"

"New people to talk to."

_Sirius._

Harry had finally noticed Hermione's once-reproachful-now-murderous glare.

_Just how are you going to dance out of this one, Harry?_

Harry yelped as he jerked up on his seat, Anya suspected that a shin had just been kicked.

"Hermione, I'm just inviting her for a drink before our meeting," Harry hastily defended himself. "Nothing wrong with that, not like she's interested in meeting up with Hagrid with us later."

Both girls were impressed with his deflection, although for different reasons.

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "Seryy?"

"Thanks," said Anya. "But I had plans already, another time."

Harry looked forlorn while Hermione looked relieved. The brunette left the place after a courteous goodbye but Harry stayed behind, waiting for him to be alone with Anya.

"Anya, come on," Harry pleaded. "It's not Hagrid we were going to meet, it's Sirius."

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Anya snorted.

"Then why are you not coming? Do you actually have other plans?"

"Yes, actually," Anya nodded. "It's alright Harry, another time. Take this meeting to inform him that I exist, because I personally feel that a bombshell like this ought to be released bit by bit."

"Fine," Harry drew her into a tight hug which to his delight, she had allowed – though she did not return thee hug. He had grown fond of hugging her tightly in the short time that they had met. Anya could feel that he was compensating for all the lost time they never spent together. "Just let me know if you change your mind, okay? Don't worry about Hermione and Ron, I have a workaround for that."

"In the event I do change my mind, what's the meeting place?"

"Past Dervish and Banges at the end of High Street, three o'clock," Harry said with a hopeful smile.

"Noted," Anya nodded as she picked up her bag. "Don't be hopeful because I'm unlikely to change my mind."

"I really hope you do," Harry said wistfully. "Trust me, you'll love Sirius."

"I suspect some levels of bias in that statement," said Anya, leaving the table and giving Harry a wave. "See you."

**XXXXX**

Another floating balloon popped into a blossom of water. Seeing that the bullet had successfully found its mark, Astoria released the breath she was holding. She took out the magazine from the pistol and inspected its contents, it was already empty. Astoria sighed in disappointment, the joy really ended too soon. Anya had been right when she had told her that shooting was a joy in it of itself, it took the concept of wand aiming and pushed it to the extreme. It was simply dedicating all your focus into keeping a steady hand and controlling your breathing, it felt like those meditation sessions her mother had forced her to partake in her Occlumency lessons but with a thrill to it.

A calm thrill, Astoria giggled. She did not even think there was such a thing. She was so glad that Anya had agreed to lend her pistol to her, though she was supervised at all times of course. Never did she think that she would find so much joy in a Muggle tool. She had enjoyed duelling back when she first received her wand, her father had been kind enough to indulge her. But there was a vast difference, she did not need to think about what spells to use, the various intricate wand movements and the complex magical theory.

That was it, she did not need to think. And yet, the creation of this tool that could allow anyone to kill even a wizard required what she could only assume to be astounding levels of intelligence.

That seemed to be the oxymoron of Muggles. They think a lot so that they would never need to think again. When Anya showed her a Muggle device she had called a 'calculator', her mind blew. There were functions that the Muggle device can't perform – of course, they were only Muggles – but usage of that device alone could render at least seven Arithmancy spells redundant to learn and would save a good deal of time.

Spending time with Anya slowly threw her world upside down, not that she was complaining. All her life she had been taught that Muggles were savages and yet, she was repeatedly shown otherwise. As Anya said, you couldn't compare apples to oranges. Speaking of Anya, the girl was sitting next to her reading some kind of Muggle novel, she hinted at growing in a Muggle environment before coming here but there were always moments of Pureblood decorum that thoroughly denounced the idea of her being a Mudblood. Astoria had to guess Half-blood or that Russia raised their witches differently.

"That's the last of them?" Anya asked, folding the corners of the page she had been reading and shutting the book.

"Yep," said Astoria, popping the 'p' as she spoke. "Thanks for hanging around on a Hogsmeade weekend. I swear, as much fun as Ella and Stacy are, the housemates in my year are bland."

"No problem. I'd rather relax here than suffer the stares and questions of the entire student body."

"The whole task in the dungeons was complete bollocks," Astoria grumbled. "Seriously, you took out all the acromantulas with a lightning spell and Potter gets the points?"

"What's done is done," Anya stood up and stretched.

"How about a walk to the Whomping Willow?" Astoria suggested, leading the way towards the solitary tree in the distance. "It's one of Hogwarts' landmarks."

"I always figured the school was nutters planting a safety hazard in the grounds."

When the pair reached the famed – or infamous, depending on who you were asking – tree, Anya noticed something, her right eye always did. There was a knot in the roots of the tree, nearly concealed. She could see various lines of magic emitting from the knot, digging into the roots, trunk and braches. Curious, she drew her wand and with a swish, sent a nearby rock hitting the knot. The Whomping Willow trembled slightly before becoming unnaturally still.

"Did you kill it?" Astoria squeaked in surprised.

"It's temporary," Anya approached the trees, feeling the coarse bark. "Didn't think someone had the idea to place a deactivation switch of sorts for this thing."

"There's a hole here!" Astoria gasped, pointing at the passageway hidden beneath the roots of the tree. She turned up to face Anya with a grin. "Feeling adventurous? Who knows, maybe a predecessor left a stash of galleons there."

Anya shrugged, descending into the gaping maw in the earth. It was a tunnel leading into the abyss, despite her eye, she still required a modicum of light to see. Taking out a torchlight and switching it on, Anya made her way down the tunnel, holding her wand up with a curse on the tip of her lips.

"Don't mind me, I'll just be waiting here." Astoria's voice came from the entrance.

Anya backtracked to drag Astoria along with her, who protested loudly.

"If you're going to nudge me into exploring a dark tunnel that leads to who-knows-where, you're coming along," Anya said tartly, passing Astoria the torchlight. "Here, hold this."

"What is this?" Astoria asked as she followed Anya down the tunnel, examining the torchlight.

"Torchlight. Muggle device, magic-less _Lumos_ essentially."

"Interesting... how do they work?"

"To put it in simple terms. Tube makes tiny lightning, tiny lightning goes through some kind of material and forms light."

"No magic?"

"No magic."

"Why don't you use _Lumos_ then?"

"Allows my wand to be free in the event I need to curse someone or something."

They walked in silence, until finally they reach the end of the tunnel, leading to an abandoned house. Torn bed and furniture with scratch marks all over the walls. The two girls looked around, trying to determine where they ended up. Anya went to the boarded up windows, peeking through the cracks. She saw Hogsmeade in the distance.

"Well Astoria," Anya gave her junior a mischievous grin. "Do you feel like taking a stroll down Hogsmeade?"

"Are you serious!?" Astoria lit up with a smile, rushing over to the window to see the evidence for herself. "We must be in the Shrieking Shack! Daphne talked about visiting this building on her first ever Hogsmeade outing."

"And going to Hogsmeade a year early?" Astoria continued. "Only an idiot would turn down this opportunity."

The two of them were not in their school robes, which meant that it only took a few glamour charms on Anya's part for the two of them to blend into the crowd. Astoria practically dragged Anya to Honeydukes to sample the various candy in store.

"Anya?"

Anya turned to the source of the sound and found herself facing Zabini and Nott.

"How did you know it was me?" she did not bother denying it, she gave the credit due to her two friends.

"Left-handed person about our age with a Muggle wristwatch that I have never seen before," Zabini answered with a casual shrug. "Nice glamours by the way. Who's the other one?"

"Astoria?" Nott guessed.

"Daphne's not with you right, Theo?" Astoria asked anxiously, sighing with relief when Nott shook his head. "Thank Merlin, she would kill me if she found me sneaking out of Hogwarts."

"Screw that," said Zabini. "How did the two of you get here, I never saw you at the carriages."

The two girls looked at each other, nodded in understanding and gave Zabini the most innocent shrug they could muster without saying a word, Zabini gave an irritated huff. The four of them soon left Honeydukes with sweets in their pockets, wandering mindlessly through the streets. Astoria suggested Three Broomsticks to which all her seniors shook their heads in disagreement, ushering her instead to the Hog's Head. Entering the grimy pub, Astoria blanched, the sanitary condition of the place left much to be desired.

"What's so good about this place compared to Three Broomsticks?" Astoria scrunched up here nose as the stench of goats hit her.

"Actual alcohol," Nott answered, taking a seat as Zabini went to get drinks.

"F-firewhisky?" Astoria spluttered when Zabini set the tray of amber-coloured drinks on the table.

Zabini passed the drinks around, giving them a suave wink and saying, "my treat."

"Thanks," Nott graciously accepted his glass. "After all, this is probably from the extra gold belonging to your deceased step-father number… three?"

"Five, actually."

Everybody snorted in amusement and conversations soon broke out. Astoria felt very relaxed with this group of forth-years, unlike spending time with her other housemates. There was little to none of the political manipulations and manoeuvring that was rife in the snake pit, only snarky and witty jibes at one another and light conversation. No wonder these three normally isolated themselves from the majority of Slytherin, they could not be bothered with all the politicking going on.

Astoria felt envious of these three, they were so free while she often felt like a caged bird desperate to escape. From young, both she and Daphne were taught the art of political manoeuvring from their father and their entire life had been that, politics. Every word and move had to be carefully considered as her entire life had been pressured into a big game of poker, she hated it. She prided herself in the quick wit and cunning that defined Slytherin but to consistently use to them in politics felt like a pain. In the meantime, something caught Anya's eye while she was mocking the corruption in the British Ministry with Zabini.

"Sorry, I just realised I have something to do," Anya stood up, draining the last of her firewhisky. If anything, alcohol would be useful for what was about to come. "Astoria, I'll meet you by the place where we came from."

Once she stepped out of the pub, a standard set of spells were cast. Disillusionment Charm, Notice-Me-Not Charm, Silencing Charm and a few other spells to eliminate heat signatures and scent. A final obscure spell Grey had taught her absorbed surrounding radio and ultrasonic waves, cloaking her from echolocation-based detection.

A short walk soon took her to Dervish and Banges where she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione following a large black dog. The telltale strands of magic swirling around the dog told her that it was an animagus, Sirius Black.

Anya tailed the crowd, keeping an eye out for any threats. Soon, she was lead to a cave far out of Hogsmeade and she watched as the dog transformed into a dirty ragged man. Harry offered Sirius a basket which he gratefully accepted. Reaching into the basket, he took out a chicken leg and began devouring it ravenously. Anya settled herself in a corner of the cave as the meeting was clearly going to take some time.

Talks soon began and Anya learned several new things. For starters, Mr Crouch had been acting very strangely as of late, nothing unexpected. Additionally, Harry had been targeted by what could possibly be Death Eaters. It made sense, but at the same time not, mostly because of the Third Task. There was a trap, yes, but it was sprung for her and Krum, not Harry. It didn't add up. By the end of the meeting, the trio of Gryffindors stood to leave but Harry mentioned for the others to leave first.

"Ron, Hermione, you guys go ahead first. I want a quick private word with Sirius."

The other two Gryffindors nodded and left the cave, leaving Anya alone with Harry and Sirius.

"Well Harry, what's on your mind?"

"It's Anne, I found her. She's alive and here in Hogwarts, she came in this year."

Sirius dropped the piece of bread he was eating.

"Anne? Anne Potter? Your sister?"

Harry nodded.

"How is she!? Is she alright!?" Sirius leapt forward and shook his shoulders.

"She's fine. She's fine," Harry jabbered. "Just... off, I guess."

"Off? What do you mean?" Sirius asked with concern. "And she came in just this year? And... alright, I think you should start from the beginning."

Anya listened on as Harry gave Sirius a quick rundown of what he knew of her.

"Thirteen years in Russia," Sirius muttered. "Not what would I expect, that's a little concerning too. She probably got all those scars there. Why did she come here?"

"Don't know," Harry shrugged.

"Not that it matters," Sirius grinned. "She seemed to accept us, though it's a shame she couldn't come today. And all things considered, she grew up alright. I agree with you, the Third Task – working together and giving you a shoulder to lean on afterwards – probably showed her true self. James and Lily would have been proud of her, especially Lily, Merlin knows Runes was her second favourite subject behind Charms."

"You also mentioned that she didn't want her identity revealed?" Sirius clarified.

Harry nodded and Sirius gave a sigh, shaking his head.

"I suppose she has her reasons. You better go now, Harry," Sirius ushered him out. "It's getting late."

Anya waited for a minute before dropping her concealment spells. Still sitting in her corner, she waited for Sirius to finally take note of her. It took a minute before Sirius jumped back in shock at the sudden presence of an unknown girl.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked cautiously, his body tensing up and ready to move.

There was an air of silence as Anya merely appraised the godfather in front of her. Finally she answered by dropping all her glamour charms, revealing the telltale scar running down her right eye.

"Anne? Or do I call you Anya now? Harry mentioned you were quite adamant in that."

Anya simply gave a stiff nod.

"You were here the whole time?"

Another nod.

"Why didn't you come with Harry, or at least let us know you're here?" Sirius frowned in confusion.

"I just wanted to see what you would be like without my presence influencing you," Anya explained. "And I wanted a private conservation with my godfather."

Sirius smiled broadly and moved towards Anya but the girl levelled her arm and pointed her wand straight at Sirius. The gaunt man stopped in his tracks at stared at her with confusion and for a brief moment, showed a look of horror on his face.

"I'm sorry," said Anya coolly. "But despite Harry saying you're innocent – which I'm inclined to believe – you better explain yourself before a Severing Charm hits you in the neck, I don't feel particularly comfortable with a wanted man so near me."

"Reasonable," Sirius chuckled. "That blunt manner of speaking reminds me so much of Lily, Merlin knows I end up that her wandtip all too often."

Seeing as the girl continued to aim her wand at him, Sirius explained himself.

"Simply put, I was framed by Peter Pettigrew. I hunted him down for betraying your parents to Voldemort, cornered him to a street where he murdered thirteen bystanders with a curse to escape, everyone simply thought his curse was my handiwork. Is that good enough?"

Anya lowered her wand.

"Harry didn't tell you any of this?"

"Not in detail, I was busy recovering from an acromantula bite."

"Well, what did you want to talk about?"

"For starters," Anya cracked a small smile. "I suppose a thank you is in order for healing me back then, not sure if my life was at risk but thank you anyways."

"Just did my part as your godfather," Sirius smiled wanly. "Should have done more for you though, you would have ended up much better."

"No, it's alright," Anya shook her head. "I wouldn't have had it any other way and-"

"You had blood on your hands because I left you," said Sirius sadly, looking more grim and regretful than ever.

"What makes you think so?" Anya arched an eyebrow.

"I was a Hit Wizard back in the war against Voldemort," explained Sirius softly. "We all worked long enough to know who had grown cold from all the killings, there was a certain look in their eyes, haunted, cold and dead. I see that in you, Anya, when you lifted your wand on me. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you."

"Don't be," said Anya. "But I wanted to talk about something else, about what happened to me."

"I honestly would like to know that myself," Sirius gave a mirthless chuckle. "I certainly don't know how you ended in Russia."

"Don't worry about that," Anya waved it off. "I want to know what happened to me in the forty-eight hours after Voldemort killed my parents, since you were there to heal me I can assume you know plenty."

"Not really," Sirius shook his head. "I wanted to bring you and Harry under my care but Hagrid arrived to pick up the both of you instead."

"Why would the groundskeeper of Hogwarts need to pick us up?" Anya asked in puzzlement.

"He had instructions to deliver the both of you to Dumbledore."

"Who gave those instructions?"

"Dumbledore."

A slight twitch of her mouth was all the indication she gave as she allowed the train of thought to hit her hard on the head. Hagrid was hardly capable of cold-blooded acts, his large figure served only to belie his very warm and gentle nature. That left one other person.

"He brought us straight to Dumbledore?" she asked with an emotionless mask.

"I assume so," Sirius replied. "Why? How did you end up in Russia? What did Dumbledore do?"

Anya shrugged nonchalantly, she had already put the pieces together. Sure, she would not be trusting the old man anytime soon, but she realised she could not really bring herself to hate Dumbledore for his act. She was thinking along the lines of how can she hate a person for trying to kill her when that person failed so badly that she ended up not only alive but as part of a cabal of Spooks. In fact, looking at Harry's oversized hand-me-downs that he had worn and the slight appearance of being underfed she would say that, physically, she got the better end of the deal.

"I think I'll let you figure that one out," Anya told her godfather before moving to leave the cave. "Goodbye."

Just as she was at the mouth of the cave, Sirius came to a realisation.

"Wait!" Sirius exclaimed furiously. "Don't tell me Dumbledore was behind this. After all, he was the one who told James and Lily to keep you a secret when you were born!"

Anya stopped in her tracks and turned her head to face Sirius, a taunting smile playing on her lips.

"I don't really know the truth myself, Sirius. But what do you think?"

With her final words said, she left the cave and made her way back to Hogsmeade. At least she now knew who to look out for, the Headmaster of Hogwarts certainly was not at the top of her suspect list. The scrutiny of the teachers in Hogwarts now became a much bigger threat. But the year was almost done anyway, just one more year and her OWLs would be done. Joining Astoria who had been waiting patiently outside the Shrieking Shack, they both snuck back into Hogwarts.

**XXXXX**

CLASSIFIED 01M/02R

This document can only be read by personnel with Level 01M or 02R clearance or above. Personnel without proper authorisation caught possessing or viewing this document or a copy of this document will face an Azkaban sentence of at least 30 years in addition to a Memory Charm being performed.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC

DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES

RESEARCH DOCUMENT E3H845A

**PROJECT JANUARY TWO: RESEARCH INTO ACOUSTIC LOCATION RELATED MAGIC**

DATE: ████████ 1913

DOCUMENT BY: 02A ███████████

CONTENT

ABSTRACT - 2

PROJECT SUMMARY - 2

PRIMARY WORKINGS - 3

APPLICATION OF THEORY - 55

RESULTS AND CONCLUSION - 80

ANNEX A - 90

ANNEX B - 181

ANNEX C - 222

ANNEX D - 278

Page 1 of 290

* * *

ABSTRACT

After the Muggle incident of the vessel _Titanic_ on April 1912, Muggles experimented with a technology where the reflection of sound waves can be utilised for detection of objections. Positive results in the Muggles' experimentation have proved that such a phenomenon was within the realm of even non-magical reality.

With this in mind, one can easily come to the conclusion that such a feat would be possible even for wizarding kind. Therefore, the aim of Project January Two is to research and explore possible avenues of acoustic location as well as possible magical means to hide from such detection. This document serves as a record to the process and results of Project January Two. As of the date this document has been recorded, Project January Two has been concluded by 06M ███████████ as a partial success. Declaration has been approved by 06R ███████████.

PROJECT SUMMARY

Project January Two began on ██████████████ and ended on ███████ 1913, relying on past research of various sensory and acoustics magic.

Project January Two was proposed by 06M ███████████, stating that the results of such a project can possibly be used to ensure that the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy can be preserved in the event that acoustic location technologies are used by Muggles to accidentally discover wizarding sites. This was approved by 08M ██████████. Full details can been found in Annex C.

The project was held at Sector ██ Lab █, working under a ████ men team. Research was mainly divided into two possible methods of acoustic location and its concealment methods, charms and runes. Standard spell creation and experimentation protocols ███████████ was maintained throughout the duration of the project.

Page 2 of 347

* * *

Extract from document

Although all spellwork hypothesised and tested did came up with positive results, some of the resultant charms that were created did have their draw backs. The various prototypes of acoustic location charms suffers from the major drawback that no human being can properly understand the meaning of the acoustic echoes. As such, using the charm can only give subjects a garbled idea of their surroundings rather than the high quality results we have been expecting.

In order to circumvent this issue, the charms made can be synchronised to screens into order to give a visual representation of the acoustic echoes, done so via appropriate charms and rune scripts which can be derived from past research Project █████████.

On the other hand, magical concealment from such acoustic location came out with positive results as recorded in Annex A. However, many of the research team felt that its use to ensure the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy can easily be outdone by Muggle-Repelling wards. Due to this matter, the charm used for this will not be declassified to the general public under orders from 08M ██████████.


	17. Chapter 17 - Gift

Chapter 17 - Gift

Summer sunshine was particularly bright that day, basking the neighbourhood in a warm glow. The light that filtered through the canopy leaves of the birch trees painted the asphalt road in chequered yellow. Along the bushes that lined the road, two children crept behind the shrubbery, keeping a low profile.

One was an Asian boy and the other a Caucasian girl, both had jet-black hair. The girl had a white band of cloth covering her right eye. Their quarry laid several feet away from them, parked by the roadside, it was an ice cream van. The skinny man dressed in white closed the shutters of counter window and climbed onto the driver seat.

"现在,走! (Now, go!)" the boy barked in a hushed voice. The two children burst out from the bushes and to the tailgate of the ice cream van. The girl peaked around the edge of the van and kept an eye on the ice cream man, the boy took out a pick and small tension wrench from his pockets and began picking the lock on the tailgate.

The whining sound of a starting engine filled their ears.

"伟剑,快点,(Wei Jen, faster,)" the girl urged him. "车要走了.(Truck's leaving.)"

Humming in acknowledgement, the boy continued on his job, working harder under the pressure of time. A few more seconds and both of them were greeted with a satisfying click of the lock opening. The children swung the tailgate open and silently climbed aboard the ice cream van. Not a moment too soon and the van began to move as it drove off down the road. The two children took off their backpacks and began filling them up with ice cream bars.

The pair swept through the refrigerators, taking out their favourites in a mechanical fashion. They took just enough to avoid the notice of the ice cream before zipping their bags shut. The girl took out a mirror and reflected the sun's rays onto the driver of a motorbike who had been tailing the van. Four flashes and the motorbike sped up, coming up to just two feet from the van. She threw her backpack to the driver who caught it with one arm. The driver slung the bag over his shoulders before catching the second one from the boy. With his part done, the driver broke away and turned into an alleyway, disappearing from sight.

The two children waited in the van for a red light before hastily leaping off it, shutting the tailgate behind them with practiced silence. After checking that the ice cream man remained oblivious to the whole operation, the pair took off into a jog towards their designated meeting point. Several twist and turns and they wound up in a parking lot.

"Anya! Jen! Over here!" a voice called out, it was the driver of the motorbike, holding up their spoils. The motorbike was parked beside one of the many birch trees and the driver was lounging under the shade with two other children who were sporting blonde hair. Anya and Jen walked over and accepted an ice cream bar each.

"Thanks Dimitri," said Anya as she peeled off the wrapper, enjoying the cold treat which was a great welcome during the summer.

"Cards?" a girl with strawberry blonde hair held up a deck innocently.

"Tanya, do you bring that with you everywhere you go?" the blonde boy beside her sigh in mock exasperation.

"You bet, Kiel," she replied in a singsong voice. "So? Anyone up for it?"

There was a chorus of agreement and the children soon sat in a circle, alternating between the various card games they knew how to play as they indulged in their ice cream treats.

"You're bluffing," Tanya grinned, tossing in a few more rubles in. "I'll raise."

"Fuck you, fuck me," Dimitri swore, dropping his cards in defeat and raising his hands dramatically. "Why do I even bother with you? You should not be allowed to play poker, I'll fold."

Laughter erupted around him at his reaction.

"Tanya, you do know that's borderline cheating?" Anya wheezed out between her laughs.

"It's not," said Jen. "It's full blown cheating."

"Not my problem that you guys can't lie properly," Tanya giggled, collecting the pot.

"No," Kiel shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Tanya. That's literally abusing your ability. Everyone here is a great liar."

"As much as I hate to break the fun," said Jen as he checked the time. "It's time to head back, Aleks is probably mad enough with us stealing his motorbikes, us being home late will probably make things worse."

"That's true," Tanya sighed petulantly as she collected the cards back. "He's only fun to poke at from a safe distance. We should probably have him in a decent mood if we're to go back home where he's within arm's reach."

Dimitri and Kiel took a motorbike each – Kiel had his parked nearby in one of the lots – and started their engines. Jen picked Tanya off her feet, much to her protest, and dropped her behind Dimitri before swinging himself over the seat. Anya hopped on behind Kiel and the blonde sped off, with Dimitri at his wings.

Wind whipped through their hair as they rode down the neighbourhood roads, occasionally letting out squeals of excitement when they swerved around a particularly tight corner. Soon, they ended in front of the flat they had long called home, Dimitri and Kiel parked the motorbikes and everyone dismounted.

"Everyone sneaky now," Dimitri ordered. "Don't want Aleks to see us."

There was a collective nodding among the children and they crept to the door, Jen tried the knob and peeked in through the crack.

"Clear."

"Where's the elf?"

"Nippy? Not here, probably in the kitchens."

He held the door open and everyone snuck in swiftly, taking up positions, moving from cover to cover and keeping a 360-degree view of their surroundings with a fluid cohesiveness that could only be achieved through countless hours of practice.

"Footsteps, left corridor," Tanya whispered, picking out a dampened sound that no one else could.

"Right it is," Kiel whispered and everyone followed suit.

"Where the _fuck_ are those kids?" a familiar voice rang through the floor.

"Right indeed," Jen muttered in agreement.

Another minute of surreptitious tiptoeing and the children found their way into one of the living rooms. They immediately settled themselves down into an air of relaxed ease, as though they had not been sneaking about just a few minutes ago. They had just made it in time as Aleks burst in not a moment too soon, scowling at the children. He looked accusingly at the children who all wore faces of complete innocence.

"Funny thing really," the lanky Russian seethed. "I could have sworn that two of my bikes were missing, as were the lot of you."

All fingers pointed at Dimitri.

"Dimitri(Dim) did it, we were all here lazing around the whole time."

"Wait what? What the fuck?" Dimitri yelped in surprise, looking at the pointed fingers around him.

Aleks grabbed a fistful of his hair in frustration, letting out an annoyed groan.

"Alright, I don't have time for any of this. Everyone to the dining room."

With that, he herded the children out and to the dining where greeted with a table filled with food, almost all of which contained Anya's favourites. Grey sat at the head of the table, looking through documents with complete disinterest. Nathaniel stood beside him with a soft smile.

"Happy birthday, Anya! Seven years old now!"

Cheers exploded around Anya and she found herself crushed under a group hug. Anya had a megawatt smile plastered on her face as she soaked in the affection. Everyone soon took their seats and tucked in to the meal prepared for them, Anya spooning in the delightfully fragrant pilaf rice that Nippy was so good at. Hearty conversations broke out quickly around the table, the children talked about almost every single topic there was. From day-to-day happenings to their training to even magical theory.

When the meal came to a close, Nathaniel called for Nippy to clear the table before placing a long rectangular box on the table. He looked at Anya expectantly who took a moment to realise that it was her birthday gift. Anya gazed at the package in awe, the box was about four feet in length, too short to actually be a broomstick but exciting nonetheless. Gingerly, she unwrapped the box and removed the lid, letting out a soft gasp as she saw its contents.

An SVD-63 Dragunov sniper rifle lay in the box, looking in mint condition with its polished wooden stock and unmarred frames, that is if one excluded all the runes etched on it. Anya lifted the rifle and inspected it, as did all the other children around. The runes on the Dragunov was well made and expertly designed, building on each other in a harmony that Anya could only describe as a masterpiece. There was no way Nathaniel himself could have made this.

"Grey?" Anya stared at the old man in amazement. "You made the runes on this?"

The ashen-haired elder simply grunted and carried on with his documents.

"But how?" Anya muttered, peering through the scope. She gasped as the lens in her vision lit up like a heads-up-display, showing the bearing and range of where her crosshairs were aiming as well as various other useful information such as wind speed and ammunition count. In fact, the weapon felt alive in her arms, warmth coursing through her arms. It was not like the other magically enchanted firearms she had used. "This isn't like the normal modified firearms, you need a powerful central magical core to keep this operating."

"Dragon heartstring," Nathaniel answered. "Embedded into the bolt carrier."

"That's essentially a wand," Tanya cried out.

"That's not all," said Nathaniel, handing Anya a stack of papers.

"Homework?" Dimitri laughed. "Big yikes there, Anya."

"Not homework, Dimitri. It's an option."

There was a wave of confusion from the children. Anya took the stack of papers and leafed through them, scanning what appeared to be a document of various experiments and research. They were theorems on both magical and Muggle topics but Anya found where Nathaniel was going with this.

"You're planning on fixing my eye?" Anya gasped, looking through a blueprint of what was possibly the most complex runic script she had ever seen.

Nathaniel nodded.

"But all these runes," Anya's brow furrowed. "They rely on chaos theory to operate the magical regeneration of my eye, is it safe? It could screw my eye even more."

"Not like it matters," Grey sneered from the side. "You can't even see with that eye, any damage done will be of no detriment. Stop whining."

"There will be side effects for sure," Nathaniel nodded. "Active Runes on a human body is complicated enough, but added to an organ affected by dark magic is something else. That's why I left it as an option to you, to see if you want to know what fate had in store for you."

"Have you tested this before?"

"Yes, on several blinded subjects. Most come out alright, almost all have their vision altered. Some turn out worse, some turn out better and some turn out completely off the charts."

"Off the charts?"

"One subject was able to see through solid objects and another could see electromagnetic wavelengths."

Anya simply sat down, pondering over the choice presented to her. Everyone looked at her, awaiting her decision. She knew this was something that required an extensive amount of consideration, but she trusted Nathaniel to make the right choice for her. Presenting this notes to her already stated his choice.

"I'll do it," said Anya firmly. "As Grey said, any failure is of no detriment."

"Are you sure? The surgery will not be pleasant at all, no painkillers. Can't have them affecting the body and by extension the spells and runes."

Everyone around her grimaced. But Anya stood firm and nodded. Nathaniel ushered her to one of the rooms refitted into a hybrid of an operating theatre and a laboratory, Anya laid down on an operating table and the surgery began. The process was surreal and painful, Anya would never forget that experience, it was unlike another of the other runes that had been carved on her. A flash of a scalpel, the burning sensation of the right eye splitting open. She was infinitely thankful that she could not see with her right eye as the sight of the scalpel entering would have been to sickening for her.

She could feel something in scratching in her eye, leaving a scalding trail in its path. For two hours she gritted her teeth as Nathaniel and Grey worked in hushed concentration, the silence only punctuated occasionally by the short instructions Grey would give Nathaniel. She could tell that runes were being carved within her eyeball, from the iris to the retina. A spark of magic, dancing within her eye, electrifying and cooling.

When the runes were carved and the nerve bundles magically reconnected, they wrapped a bandage embroidered with runes around her eye. The Active Runes were all activated and Anya sat around, waiting for the healing to complete as the other children watched on.

"So, how do you feel?" Jen asked.

"Weird," Anya replied as she sat on the couch, focused on the television in front. "Like there's something gnawing my eyeball."

"It's just doing its thing, the runes," said Dimitri from his beanbag chair, munching on a skewer of meat. "Anyone wants some leftover shashlik?"

Kiel accepted the offer and another wave of silence fell over the room. Night descended over Arkhangelsk and they went to bed, Anya climbed up onto the bunk bed she shared with Tanya and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

When morning came, Anya found herself seated in the dining room, surrounded by everyone. Grey was prodding the bandages with his wand, muttering to himself - or incantations, Anya could not really tell.

"_Khorosho. Poluchilos' khorosho_," said Grey with satisfaction. "Take it out, _devushka_."

Slowly, Anya peeled off and unravelled the bandages, the strips of rune-filled cloth descending onto her shoulders. Just as slowly, she began to open her right eye, it felt alive. Her eye fully opened and she gasped.

Light, colours and lines. The information smashed against her head like a sledgehammer. She could absorb every tiny detail all around her, the number of insects across the room, the distinct veins of the leaves falling outside the window and the colossal mass of lines swirling all around her as though she was surrounded by a hurricane. Her mind and body strained against the unrelenting torrent of visual input and she dropped off the chair and on her knees, clutching her eye in pain.

Grey held her steady before her face could follow the same fate as her knees and with a tug, pulled her back to her feet. Keeping her right eye shut, she feel the searing pain ebb away and she finally released her hand. Anya glanced down at her hand.

It was stained with blood.

"What did you see?" Grey asked calmly.

"Everything."

**XXXXX**

From that day, Anya slowly learned to control her right eye. It started with acclimatision, getting used to the overwhelming sensory input at seemed to crush her head. Gradually, she learned that the sensitivity of her right eye can be adjusted. It was like a new muscle she had to learn to use, like learning to write with one's feet. Mostly, she kept the sensitivity of her right low as she did not need an information overload at all times. There was no point in seeing a myriad of lines when she had yet to understand the meaning of them. In fact, she learned that keeping her sensitivity high would inevitably result in a headache and bleeding from her eye.

Trial and error. Trial and error. Trial and error. She experimented and figured out – with the aid of Nathaniel and Grey – the capabilities of her eye and everyone was amazed by the results. Magic became visible, her field of view expanded significantly and her could easily see objects miles away.

When viewed with the Dragunov rifle, her birthday gifts appeared to be a set rather than two different presents. This managed to bring to a smile to Grey for once.

"Miss. Adjust right by two mils." The crack of the rifle reverberated through the air. Nathaniel and Anya lay on a hilltop, the former with an omniculars in his hand and the later with her rifle. "Control your breathing, you're getting too excited."

"Of course it's a miss," Anya mumbled. "The target's one kilometre away. A Dragunov is only meant to hit up to eight hundred metres."

"No excuse," Nathaniel said firmly, handing Anya another fresh magazine. "This Dragunov is meant to hit up to three kilometres and with your right eye, Grey says that you should be able to hit targets even further than that."

Anya slid the magazine in and pulled the charging handle with more force than necessary. Sighing and mumbling, she settled back into her scope which provided far more magnification than it should be able to given its size.

Her rifle seemed to warm itself up in tandem with her concentration, powering up the runes required to accelerate the bullet to a hypersonic speed. Drilling in the breathing techniques Nathaniel had taught her into her body, she forced herself to calm down. An inhale, an exhale and the rifle jerked back in recoil as the bullet flew towards its target.

"Hit," Nathaniel declared, causing Anya to groan in relief. "But you can do better, you only hit the shoulder, the centre mass should be your goal."

And so weeks and months passed by with Anya firing round after round with her Dragunov, Nathaniel mercilessly trained her marksmanship in addition to the normal training regime. The results were impressive and Anya found herself to be a natural, shooting turned out to be relaxing in its own way as she had to calm down in order to fire accurate shots.

By the spring of 1989, Nathaniel had deemed her fit for operations.

**XXXXX**

"And by incorporating Euclid-type scripts in the second layer, the rate of bone regrowth can be stabilised to levels safe for use," Anya pointed to the three swirls of runes equidistant from one another. "That would sum up the modifications we have made in the past two weeks."

"However," Hermione picked up where her partner left off. "There are still various flaws and problems yet to solve in this runic script. Hopefully, by the next presentation, Seryy and I would have figured out how to eliminate the side effects of severe thrombosis."

The two girls were greeted with applause from the class, especially from Professor Babbling. The Runes professor could not be prouder at that moment, truly the girls were the highest calibre of students she ever had the pleasure of teaching. Most of the class had presented Active Runes to perform simple feats like levitation and illumination, these two girls were already attempting to replicate the runic system St Mungo used for long-term treatment of certain patients.

The runes were far from perfect, Professor Babbling reckoned that the runic script will probably perform more harm than good on an injured person. However, give it a decade or two and there could very well be a new patent on the horizon.

Hermione herself was at cloud nine, there was a giddy sense of joy and satisfaction when the first layout of runes were made. That giddy sense only heightened which each further improvement and modification. Anya turned out to be a great partner for project work, the girl seemed to be exceptionally comfortable working in pairs. The girl was still seemed enigmatic and peculiar to her, but she truly was a prodigy in Runes, Hermione had learned more from her in weeks than she did in her entire third year. Even though Hermione could not bring herself to like the girl, she easily brought herself to respect her abilities and work ethics. The girl had an innate ability to bring herself to a level of focus and concentration that seemed unnatural, especially when carving runes. It was as if she fell into a trance, her breath would slow down and her body ease into a relaxed stillness, each motion as she carved done in a meticulous precision.

Making her way back to her seat, Anya sighed. Runes was fun, she adored it ever since she could read, having intellectual discussions about Runes with Jen and even Hermione – the brunette's avid interest had earned her respect – was fun. Explaining Runes to a class full of people who looked like as though she was speaking Cantonese, not so much. She was all too glad when the bell rang. Picking up her bag, she realised Hermione walking up to catch up with her.

"That was very good," said Hermione excitedly. "We should start reading up on some of the Anatolian scripts used in healing runes, there's definitely something there we can incorporate."

Anya sighed, what should have been a simple runic script like all the other students descended into a full-fledged experimentation program under the helm of Hermione. Then again, Grey could always use more reading material or inspiration, she had been mailing this project back to Arkhangelsk in the event it ever caught the old man's eye.

"Let's save it for Thursday, alright?" Anya suggested.

"Okay," Hermione nodded before sharply saying. "Next time, you're doing the runic activation. I just can't."

Anya internally snorted, served the girl right for trying to do healing runes. Hermione did not foresee that showing the results of their runes involved having an injured test subject in the first place. It was simply cups transfigured into rats, but the Gryffindor was too squeamish.

"Anya, Hermione," Harry waved at them from across the hallway. "Ready? Ron's already waiting in the classroom."

The girls followed him, Anya wondering how he even managed to rope her along in the first place. Bagman had revealed the final task to them a week ago, it was a vast hedge maze with obstacles, very classic. There was no more pairings for the Fourth Task, it was a free for all. Harry decided to take the time to train up his combat spells in preparation for the task, inviting her to join him, Ron and Hermione. Hermione had warmed up to her after spending them together in Runes, a mutual respect going between them. Ron had been a lot more aggressive in trying to keep Anya out from their training, but he soon grumpily fell under Harry's pressure. At least Harry kept her identity a secret, it was nice to know that she could trust him.

_Anya,_

_Harry placed himself in danger recently. I have told him off but I beg of you to keep an eye on him when you can. I understand that you are not compelled by any means to do so, but I sincerely hope that you have it in your heart to watch over him. I already know you have the ability to do so, my father had told me about Wizarding Russia when I was young, for you to survive there as a killer speaks volumes._

_S._

She had received that letter two days after Mr Crouch's disappearance, she was not sure if the man's disappearance was a concern or a relief. Watching her brother lead them to an abandoned classroom that served as their training room, Anya sighed softly. After the Third Task, the ice between them had more or less broke, Anya still held many secrets and was unwilling to open herself up, but her brother's genuine care was somewhat endearing. She supposed keeping an eye out for her brother once in a while would not hurt.

"So what should we be practicing today?" Harry asked as they entered the classroom.

"Shield Charms," Hermione suggested. "You could do with the practice on that."

"Alright," Harry nodded in agreement. "Anya?"

Simply drawing her wand and nodding, Anya got to work going through the motions of spellcasting. Anya watched as Harry went through the rigours of his training, she had to admit it, her brother was an innate wizard for his age and a prodigy himself in Defence. Hours passed and everyone fell on the chairs, panting in exhaustion.

"Well, at least we will be coming up top in Defence," Ron quipped.

Hermione and Ron had been very tight-lipped when Anya was around, Anya suspected that they were trying to avoid talking about Sirius.

"Just try to be very careful Harry, whoever's out to get you will have only this one last chance," said Hermione, casting a furtive glance at Anya. "I suppose best of luck to you too Seryy."

Anya nodded in response, subconsciously scratching the back of her head where the runes were still humming. At this rate, she would probably receive back her memory by the Fourth Task. The schooling year was coming to an end and soon Ron and Hermione could no longer join in their training. With the end of year exams nearing, Hermione frequently pulled Ron away forcefully to study for the exams. Since Anya and Harry were both champions and thus exempted from exams, they simply spent their free time practicing various spells they both felt useful.

"Anya."

Anya hummed in acknowledgement, taking a break as Harry worked on the Impediment Jinx. She kept her eyes on him as she took another swig of butterbeer, both to appease Sirius and to observe the jinx in action, she had never learned or used an Impediment Jinx before - a Stunner or bullet was more effective.

"I know I've asked this before," Harry began, stowing away his wand as he took a break as well. "But are you fine?"

"What's with that?" Anya chuckled.

"Your scars..." Harry trailed off. "I'm worried for you, have you been fine in Russia? You keep evading this question and I think-"

"Stop," Anya held up her hand, sighing wearily. "I ask of you, respect my privacy."

"It's just," Harry said in frustration, running his hand through his hair. "I feel like a shit brother right now, not taking care of you."

"You don't need to," Anya replied, tilting her head in amusement, eyebrows quirking. "And in the one moment you could, you have, Third Task."

"That was all you," Harry muttered. "Don't remind me of stealing your points."

"No," Anya shook her head. "You watched my back and you did it well, it was good. Krum and I would have died if you weren't there to help."

Harry sat himself down on a chair and accepted a butterbeer from Anya.

"I think I should be doing something to keep you safe," Harry took a big gulp, enjoying the smooth drink run down his throat.

"You are. You're not telling anyone about me."

"Anya-"

"Sorry Harry," Anya finished off the last of her butterbeer and grabbed her bag. "Runes is starting in five minutes and I've got to go. Don't worry about me, worry about yourself."

With a wave that Harry returned in resignation, Anya left the unused classroom, heading for her class.

**XXXXX**

"Anya," a cheery Astoria greeted her from across the corridor, the young Slytherin caught up with Anya who was running third wheel for a Nott and older Greengrass who were in their own world.

Astoria gave her sister a quick hug before moving beside Anya, the group of them making their way to the Slytherin common room.

"How was Runes?" Astoria inquired.

"It's alright," Anya replied. "Just glad the project was over, it's a big headache trying to dance to Granger's tune. The girl is too overambitious."

"Did the runic script work? I remember Nott trying to cheat off you and Granger's work."

"It did work, but came with a load of problems. Granger bit off more than she could chew.'

"Of course she did," Astoria snorted. "She a mudblood, they can't really do much..."

She trailed off when she realised that those words were no longer true, spending time with Anya has shown her otherwise. She shook her head slightly as though to shake off her blunder but Anya simply ignored it.

"Omniscient," Anya gave the password and the Slytherins entered the common room, Zabini waved them over from the corner of the room and they settled themselves there.

Everyone took out their reading material and began revising for the coming exams, except Anya who began leafing through a copy of War and Peace. There were a few jealous looks thrown at her from around the common room but the Slytherins kept any ill will to themselves, nobody was tempted to pick a fight.

"Lucky you," Astoria pouted, revising her notes on Charms. "I wish I was exempted from all this exams nonsense."

"Tori, focus," Daphne admonished, handing over her own notes to her sister for more reading material. "And Seryy, shouldn't you be off training for the Fourth Task?"

"It starts tomorrow, so it's better if I start resting my body," Anya reasoned, not taking her eyes off her book.

"I hope you win this," said Astoria. "You're in the lead and with your track record so far, you stand the highest chance of winning."

Shrewd nods followed Astoria's words and soon Anya found herself forcefully ushered by her housemates into her dorms for an early rest. Everyone demanded that she sleep early so that she would have the energy for the Fourth Task.


	18. Chapter 18 - Fourth Task

Chapter 18 - Fourth Task

Anya woke up early, preparing herself mentally for the Fourth Task. The Tournament may have already provided her the primary purpose of an exams exemption, but the idea of a high-stakes competition in front of a crowd still placed stress on her mind. An Invigoration Draught was tempting, but she shoved that idea put from her head. Instead, she placed herself under a peaceful trance of carving runes on the unmodified bullets she had in her trunk. When lunch finally came, she was surprised by the sight that greeted her at the Great Hall.

"_Vorona, vy udivleny_(Crow, are you surprised)?" Aleks asked from the Slytherin table, Dimitri sat beside him, throwing her a crooked smile and gestured the seat beside him. Around them, the Slytherins were throwing furtive glances at the two Russians.

"_Konechno(_Of course)!" Anya took a seat beside Dimitri and helped herself with lunch, she did a quick look around the Great Hall and found the families of each champions present. Her brother placed himself under the wing of a horde of redheads she assumed to be the Weasley family, he was staring at Aleks and Dimitri with wide eyes.

"_Gde Nathaniel i Jen_(Where's Nathaniel and Jen)?" Anya asked, tucking in to a plate of fish and chips, carbohydrates would be much appreciated for the task.

"_U nikh byli drugiye dela_(They had other things to do)," Dimitri replied. "_Nam tozhe yest' chem zanyat'sya. My uyedem cherez neskol'ko chasov_.(We also have something to do. We will leave in a few hours.)"

"Grey?"

"Arkhangelsk."

"Hello sir, are you Anya's family?" Astoria chimed in, looking curiously at the two Russians. At least they were both black-haired Caucasians, giving Aleks' nod enough credit for the surrounding people to accept.

"And you are?" Aleks asked.

"Astoria Greengrass," the girl replied. "Didn't Anya tell you about me in her letters?"

"No, she doesn't write much in letters she send."

"Traitor," Astoria grumbled, casting a glare at Anya who merely snorted in amusement. "In any case, it's nice to finally meet Anya's family, are you her father?"

"Uncle. I take it that Anya has been doing well here?"

"Definitely," Astoria nodded. "She fits in quite nicely here in Slytherin."

"Has she caused any problems?"

"None that she has been caught for." Dimitri snorted at that response.

"Also..." Astoria's voice dropped into a whisper. "I can assume that you taught Anya the art of using a firearm? That's pretty cool."

"What makes you think so?" Aleks arched an eyebrow, shifting his gaze to Anya who promptly focused her attention on her lunch.

"You have a pistol hidden beneath your jacket there," Astoria pointed. "It's quite easy to notice once you know what to look for."

"I respectfully decline to answer that question," said Aleks, not a crack in his mask of nonchalance.

"Wow Anya, your entire family would have been in Slytherin with the way they hide their emotions."

Dimitri and Aleks chuckled and began a conversation with Astoria, asking mainly about British politics which Astoria was begrudgingly entertained. As lunch finished, the families of the champions began to leave the Great Hall, touring the castle of Hogwarts. Astoria wanted to join in but was dragged off to class by her sister. Once they were sure that there were no eavesdroppers, they began to talk.

"She knows?" said Aleks, it was not really a question.

Anya nodded.

"When, how and how much?"

"During the Hogwarts Express, she has a very sharp set of observation skills. But she doesn't know much, just that I have firearms."

"Who else knows?"

"No one."

"Not even your brother?"

Anya shook her head.

"You're not mad are you?" Anya asked, feeling a little uncomfortable with Aleks' silence.

"She's a Greengrass, yes?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Good, keep her close and cultivate her. We'll need contacts to the British and the Greengrass family is a good start, they're neutral, with plenty of holdings and a seat on the Wizengamot."

They reached the greenhouses where Dimitri inspected the various flora Hogwarts has, Aleks looked into the Hogwarts grounds that stretched to the Forbidden Forest.

"Do you know any exfiltration routes in here?"

"One by the Whomping Willow," Anya pointed at the ominous looking tree in the distance. "Why? There's something going on here in Britain?"

"That's the reason a lot of us are here," Aleks nodded, checking his watch. "We'll keep you updated when school ends. At the meantime, Dimitri and I need to go."

"Best of luck Anya," Dimitri gave Anya a pat on her back and held up a fist which Anya begrudgingly bumped. "We won't be there to see you, but we both know you'll kick ass."

Anya waved the pair of them goodbye and made her way to the Quidditch field, where the Fourth Task was starting soon. Reaching the champions tent, she came across Harry who was staring at her.

"Who were they?"

"My family."

"Oh," he had a wistful look on his face, soon replaced by one of determination. "Good luck out there."

"You too, stay safe."

The champions were all ushered to their starting positions outside the large maze. Anya pulled up her jacket and checked the laces of her boots, clenching and unclenching her hands to calm herself down. This was the final one, the Fourth Task, a free for all.

Points accumulated from the previous tasks would determine who had a headstart over the others. The forty-five points she received from the Third Task placed her firmly in the lead with a total point of hundred and twenty-nine. Harry would follow shortly with a hundred and twenty-three, the forty-eight points he earned placing him slightly ahead of Krum by two points. Poitiers and Cedric would follow next at the same time, after which would be Fleur and finally Dulovo.

All things considered, Anya was quite confident in winning the Triwizard Tournament, she had a lead and she knew she was fast. A thick wall of hedge stood in front of her, the entrance to the maze was filled with dense fog. Bagman was making the standard introduction, comparing the various champions and doing his absolute best to raise the excitement. The crowds were roaring and the Slytherins in particular were taking great pleasure in having one of their own in the lead.

The loud boom reminiscent of a cannon fire signalled the start of the Fourth and final Task. Anya dashed into the maze immediately, heading into the fog. Two turns and she was met with a cursed barrier, sinister purple lines crackling with lethal energy. Anya frowned, a cursed barrier was a little too much for a Triwizard Tournament. Sure, she was given dragonhide equipment for safety, but this could have killed her had she ran straight into it.

Unless, someone wanted to.

This only added on to the incident in the Third Task and the fact that someone had placed a Memory Charm on her. Someone deep in the tournament wanted her dead for some reason, Crouch was no longer a suspect, having gone missing. No, there was another party, one that was responsible for both her and Crouch. This task was another target painted on her back, opting out seemed like a choice but the unknown assailant could always hound her later, she would rather get this tournament done.

Anya took a deep breath and went to work, tearing down the barrier. She was nowhere close to the finesse that Jen and Dimitri possessed, but she knew enough to get the job done. By the time the barrier collapsed into a violet fizzle, the second boom let her know that Harry had just start his foray into the maze. Cursing softly, she picked up the pace, the attempts on her life had given his brother time to start catching up.

Another few turns and red lines snapped up into her vision, causing her to dive onto the floor, hoping for the best. A burst of red light slammed on where she was moments ago, once again possibly inflicting lethal harm had she not dodged it. She turned around to check for the Observation and Tracking Charms following her, they were vibrating under a foreign interference. The audience outside probably had no idea of the threats she was facing. Once the more than lethal threat was gone from sight, the interference disappeared. Smooth.

Going through the Fourth Task, Anya realised that the unknown assailant was not pulling his punches. Fifteen minutes passed and she was trudging through too many various traps laid out for her to be considered fair competition. The initial dash she had started with slowly ground down to a cautious trot, her senses tuned to a high.

One 'Point Me' spell to double-check her bearings and she took another right at a junction in the maze. Another right, a left and she found herself coming face to face with the infamous Blast-Ended Skrewts that her fourth-year counterparts had been complaining about. It took a glance into the hideous faces on the creatures and Anya was very glad she did not take Care for Magical Creatures.

The creatures scuttled their way towards Anya and she tried a Severing Charm, the spell glanced off the Skrewts armoured shell and clipped the hedge, sending up a shower of leaves. Grimacing, Anya moved aside as one of the Skrewts blasted itself towards. A swiftly placed Sticking Charm on its legs grounded the Skrewt and Anya proceeded to give its partners a similar treatment. Anya took a quick moment to inspect the Skrewts' armoured shell, they seemed just as - if not, more - effective than dragonhide and probably easier to obtain, they could be a viable improvement to the Muggle ceramic body armour plates used in ballistic vests. Filing a quick reminder to bring this up to Grey the next time she contacted him, she continued her way towards the centre of the maze.

Once again, the Tournament officials saw fit to release a horde of Red Caps into the area, much like the Second Task. Anya was busy firing of Severing Charms when the first red sparks hit the air above the maze, signalling the beginning of champions dropping out from the Fourth Task.

The return of the acromantulas in this Task was not a pleasant surprise for Anya, she disposed of the arachnids in great distaste, using more force in her Reductor Curses and Blasting Curses than necessary. Another flare of red sparks graced the skies, the number of competitors were dwindling, five out of seven left.

A crunching sound of a broken twig and Anya spun around in the blink of an eye, wand pointing to the source of disturbance.

"Krum," Anya nodded at the Bulgarian, still keeping a sharp aim at the Durmstrang Champion. She would not be surprised if he took up the idea of victory by default.

However, Krum made no response whatsoever, continuing to stare intently at her. Caution turned into shock when Anya picked up the cords of an Imperius Curse latching onto Krum, both champions acted at the moment.

"_Stupefy._"

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Red lines filled her vision immediately and Anya flung herself to the side, dodging the sickly green curse that consumed her Stunner. Anya regained her poise and fired a Blasting Curse at the floor in front of Krum, the burst of soil sent Krum stumbling back and Anya seized the opportunity. Her wand lit up in a salvo of spells, keeping Krum off balance the whole duration. Soon, Severing Charms and high-powered curses got thrown into the mix, Krum was bewitched with a killing intent and Anya had no qualms playing tit for tat.

A Severing Charm that Krum sent in reply to Anya's own nicked her in the thigh, crimson blossomed from the wound and Anya dropped to her knees. Sickly green lines oozed from Krum's wand and Anya instinctively followed through her dropping motion, releasing all control of her legs and going from knees to prone.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Anya could not have timed it any better as the Killing Curse flew over her head. She never held much respect for the Killing Curse, it was slow. Twice the incantation duration to accomplish what a well-aimed Severing Charm could and ten times the duration to accomplish what a well-aimed trigger squeeze could. Its many syllables could leave big openings, as was the case right now.

"_Reducto._"

Anya's Reductor Curse left her wand just a split second after Krum finished his incantation, leaving the Durmstrang Champion no time to prop up a Shield Charm. The curse hit him in the shoulder and the spray of powderised bones, sinew and flesh left his wand arm hanging limply by his side. Krum howled in pain and Anya leapt to her feet, ending the duel with a Stunner to his chest.

Falling back on the ground, Anya cast a quick healing spell and closed off her wound. The cut was deep, she had nearly forgotten how proficient Krum was in duelling. She made her way to Krum and inspected her handiwork. His shoulder was in a gory mess but it was well within Madam Pomfrey's abilities. Placing several stasis spells on his open shoulder, Anya halted the blood loss. Achieving haemostasis, Anya sent up red sparks into the sky, five became four. She took another glance at the Tracking and Observation Charms, their transmission was being interfered once more, the crowd would have never seen the Killing Curse flare from Krum's wand.

This time see looked around for the source of interference, opening her right eye to see even deeper. More lines flickered into her vision and a headache began to tug on her skull. There were definitely a few new lines attached onto the Observation Charms, the cause of the interference. Warding off the Observation Charms from interference was tempting, but it would reveal too much about her. Anya rubbed her temples in frustration, whoever this person was, she was going to have to deal with him immediately after the Tournament.

Another 'Point Me' spell and Anya took a left at the next fork, the fog grew denser as she made her way deeper into the maze. She took that as a good sign, it meant she was getting close. Igniting a hidden patch of Devil's Snare, Anya made her way down a long stretch of even denser fog, flanked on both sides by towering hedges.

Something felt wrong, like a disturbance in the air. A niggling sense of dread and despair that festered and grew. Anya raised her wand and peered into the distance, trying to get a glimpse of any incoming threat. Before her eyes could register anything, the sharp ghastly sound of a siren going off hit her ears. _That_ siren.

The wailing sound snatched the breath from Anya's lungs and sent her shaking violently. Her body went limp and she slid down onto her knees, barely finding the balance to prevent herself from crumpling onto the floor. When her muscles' pleading finally forced her to breathe, her breaths became short and ragged. Her chest heaved in and out rapidly as her control in breathing spiralled into oblivion, she was hyperventilating by then.

The shadows all around her seemed to ooze and bleed, flickering with an unnatural life. Her surroundings grew darker and the siren louder. Anya's shaking grew worse and her wand slipped from her hands, clattering onto the ground. The unnatural, the eerie, the abnormal, they morphed into reality as shadows plucked themselves from the ground and crawled their way to Anya, latching on coldly to her body. Anya twitched sharply each time a shadowy appendage fused onto her skin, her consciousness seeped into the back of her head and she began to grow numb of her surroundings. She could hear distant shouts in Russian and a faint crackle of gunfire.

Darkness swarmed the area and the siren grew to its loudest. The fog in front of Anya slowly parted and insipid air rushed out from the darkness in front of her, blowing at her locks of hair. Leaves rustled around her and her eyes widened at the sight ahead, her features softened and her face grew into a resigned slack.

Nightmare greeted her.

A wretched mass of slimy abyss stood - loomed - in front of her, so dark it seemed to absorb and feast on the light around it. Limbs uncountable, thin and spidery, protruded from it, latching on any nearby surface be it hedge or soil. Blood red eyes in the hundreds opened widely, fixing its oppressive gaze upon Anya. She could feel its stare grounding her on the spot, a sinister pressure pushing her onto the soil.

Her breathing ceased as the creature opened its three maws, revealing endless rows of jagged teeth and a blood curdling shriek escaping from its inky depths. A swarm of spiny tongues erupted from its maws, snapping their way towards her like a whip. Anya gazed into its dark jaws, her turning pale as she caught sight of two figures lodged within the rows of teeth, their bodies bent, twisted and broken.

Jamming her eyes shut, she silently cursed her right eye, wishing for once that it was not so good at its job. But she could no longer get the image out from her mind, the sight of Kiel and Tanya's lifeless faces slowly being ripped apart by what has been her nightmare for two years.

Pain tore through her shoulder as the one of the tongues ripped through skin and flesh, the other tongues were moments away but the pain managed to snap Anya out from her daze. She flattened herself onto the ground, avoiding several red appendages that would have decapitated her. Picking up her wand she aimed it and screamed in a panicked frenzy.

"_CONFRINGO_!"

The Blasting Curse obliterated the oncoming tongues and the creature released an even louder shriek. Anya swiped her wand in desperation and released a Smokescreen Spell that blanketed the gap between her and the creature in a thick smoke.

Crawling onto her feet, Anya dashed away from the creature as fast as possible, igniting her surroundings in fire as she ran. Occasionally, she would trip and stumble in her haste to escape, causing her to scramble on all fours temporarily before regaining her balance_. Incendio, Fumos, Confringo_. She fired salvo after salvo over her shoulder as she fled the creature, turning and weaving around corners mindlessly. There was not any concern over where she would end up, Anya only wanted to get away from that dreaded place as fast as possible.

Reaching a crossroad, Anya dropped onto the floor, adrenaline slowly wore off and the shock from the harrowing experience returned twofold. Her body began to shake violently and her hyperventilation returned again. She could not think straight, only finding a sliver of comfort that the _thing_ was no longer near her.

It took several minutes before she could find some semblance of control, slowly dragging her weak and trembling body up. She felt dizzy and every step threatened to send her back on the ground, grabbing tightly on the hedge for support Anya slowly regained her bearings and made her way towards the centre of the maze.

**XXXXX**

"Not bad, not bad," Bagman roared with approval. "Mr Diggory handled those Skrewts expertly, he's cutting it close, a little ahead of Mr Potter. Of course, still quite a big gap compared to our lead, Ms Seryy."

A symphony of cheers rang across the stands, everyone cheering for their own champion of choice. In front of the stands stood the podium which awaited the eventual winner of the Triwizard Tournament, beyond that were the same large pieces of canvas screens used in the Great Hall during the Third Task to show the champions' progress.

"Once again with the technical difficulties concerning our Observation and Tracking Charms," Bagman said cheerily. "No worries, officials mentioned that interference is a high possibility with the kind of magical creatures we have in store for the champions. All the more to be excited for!"

"Officials just retrieved Mr Krum from the maze," Bagman commented as the crowd saw a team of Tournament officials levitating out an unconscious Krum out from the maze entrance. "Shame that his duel with Ms Seryy had interference, but we can all see that our Hogwarts Junior Champion left a mark on the Durmstrang opposition."

As Krum disappeared from sight, the audience turned their attention back to the screen.

"Now it's just down to four champions in the Fourth Task, from the lead is Seryy, then Diggory and closely followed by Potter and drawing up at the rear is Poitiers," said Bagman, observing the screens for anything interesting. "Well, it looks like Ms Seryy is walking down a path which – if I'm not mistaken – ends with a boggart, we'll see how she fairs against it."

All eyes were fixated on the screen, everyone was curious as to what the Hogwarts Junior Champion feared. Shock gripped the crowd when they saw Anya sliding down to her knees in fear and the audience grew more curious as to what could possibly render her into such a state. When the fog part and they got a clear view, screams rippled throughout the stands as they saw the Hogwarts Junior Champion's greatest fear.

Words could not properly describe the monstrosity they witnessed and the audience simply watched as Anya let her wand fall on the ground. When the sharp spiny tongues lashed out at her and sliced her shoulders, there were cries of panic and some were screaming for the Tournament officials to rescue her. However, they were amazed when Anya managed to react to the threat, grabbing her wand and firing spell after spell as she ran.

Silence reigned the stands for a long while before Bagman could finally find his words.

"Well, that certainly was the unexpected," Bagman said nervously. "But you can bet even I'll be running if I saw that. The boggart certainly sent Ms Seryy a long way back, this could provide the opportunity Diggory and Potter needed to overtake Seryy."

**XXXXX**

She had been walking for a long time, but the sense of time had long been lost. It could have been a minute, or ten, or maybe an hour, Anya was too lost in the hollow feeling that seized her chest. Still clutching onto the prickly hedges or support, she made her way along the maze.

The shivering, the shaking, the occasional desperate wheeze, they haunted her all the way through. She kept fighting it, tried to find a semblance of normalcy in it, that the images she saw were not currently tearing a hole in her now fragile mind.

_Stare. Stare. Stare. Do not back down. Stare in the eyes of the dead until they can no longer haunt you. Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life._

The words in her head cycled through over and over as she hammered the mantra into her consciousness. If she could just view the dead bodies of Kiel and Tanya as motions in life, the unending pain would ebb away. Tripping over herself, she fell onto the ground. It was the fifth- no sixth- no, actually, she lost count a long time ago. Picking herself back up, Anya bit her hand, injecting some pain in an attempt to clear her mind. Once she found her balance once more, she trudged on towards what she hoped was the light at the end of the tunnel.

The various creatures that threatened her fell under her wand and cold gaze, moving past several mutilated acromantulas she had just killed, her attention was drawn to several other acromantulas ahead which were slain. It certainly was not her handiwork, a different repertoire of spells lingered on the still fresh bodies and this part of the maze looked new to her – at least she assumed so. Following the trail of dead acromantulas, Anya saw Harry and Cedric standing over a bright object, it was the Triwizard Cup. The two Champions were concentrated over the Triwizard Cup, none of them noticed her presence.

"Let's do this, together?" Anya heard Cedric's hesitant voice

"On three," Harry nodded. "One. Two. Three."

Both champions grabbed the Triwizard Cup and Anya saw blue lines envelope the pair as they disappeared, they activated a portkey, the Cup was a portkey. Anya breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the ground. Frankly, she was not sure if she wanted to win with the state she was in now, appearing in front of a vast crowd was the last thing she wanted now.

Curling her legs up to her chest, she sat on the ground and awaited the inevitable fanfare that would come or maybe a team of Tournament officials to retrieve her. For the time being, she relished in small scrap of relative peace she was in, adjusting herself to a comfortable position. Sighing, she stared up at the sky, despite it being afternoon not much light made it through the fog that the maze was smothered in, it certainly was a better sight than the many dead acromantulas all around her.

However, nothing disturbed the peace. No fanfare. No teams of Tournament officials. Soon, Anya waited until she realised something was fishy. Focusing on her right eye, she realised that all the Observation and Tracking Charms were disabled. Three balls of inert and unmoving lines, one each for her, Harry and Cedric. Alarm bells started ring, the charms for Harry and Cedric should have followed them to wherever the winner of the Tournament ended up, a podium or something - she did not really know, Bagman made no mention of it. Climbing onto her feet, she made her way over to where she last saw Harry and Cedric. Kneeling down she inspected the wriggling ball of blue lines that was the portkey signature.

Suddenly, the back of her head burned. Anya winced and her hand shot to the source of the pain. She stiffened, it was the runic script carved behind her skull, her memory restoration was beginning. Fearing that she would fall once again, she sat down and waited apprehensively. Then, her lost memories hit against her head hard, making her grateful that she had the foresight to sit down beforehand. Images flashed across her mind, stitching themselves together to solve a mystery that has vexed her for a long time. Once everything fell into place, one glaring thing stood out.

Professor Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

That was the man who was responsible for her loss of memory. Slowly, Anya started to arrange the new information she received. Mr Crouch was under an Imperius Curse the whole time, Moody knew this and he tried to silence her when she discovered that fact. It was not a leap of logic to assume that Moody had a hand in the disappearance of Mr Crouch. Why? The answer came easily, Mr Crouch had become a liability at some point. That meant that Moody had been using Mr Crouch as a front for whatever activities he was doing. The fact that he was now disposed of meant that Mr Crouch was no longer needed or too dangerous to be kept alive, or both.

Anya got up gingerly and began pacing, thinking deeply at the new information laid out for her. The assumption that Mr Crouch was no longer needed seemed contradictory, after all was Moody not using Mr Crouch to import dark ritual ingredients, an import shipment intercepted by Dimitri and Jen. Unless it was information, a head of department would have a wealth of vital information in their heads.

Just as that thought passed her mind, Anya was struck by a revelation. All the teachers had been heavily involved with the Tournament, working with the officials to set up the various Tasks. More importantly, _Moody had been heavily involved with the Tournament, working with the officials to set up the various Tasks_. Moody was the third party that had engineered the incident during the Third Task, there was no way null magic was an accident. This also meant that all the additional and very lethal obstacles in this Fourth Task was his work too, so was the bewitched Krum. In fact, all of the red sparks in the sky could have been his work.

This did not add up, Anya was assuming that Moody was pulling the strings to have her killed accidentally during the Tournament for stumbling on his nasty secret of holding Mr Crouch under an Imperius Curse. From Moody's shoes, Anya could wholeheartedly agree that she would be considered a little too dangerous to leave alone. Instead, Moody was possibly placing a blanket target on many of the champions, surely not all of them stumbled into Moody's secret in separate incidents. There was something else, Moody had a vested interest in this Tournament.

That could explain another reason for having Mr Crouch under the Imperius, Moody needed vital information on the Triwizard Tournament, something Mr Crouch had in the spades. Why would Moody want to rig the Tournament? Sure, there was probably plenty of betting money involved in this, but to go this far hinted a grander reason.

Anya absentmindedly scratched the back of her head with a weak trembling hand, where the runic circle was. Assuming Moody did rig the Tournament, taking into account who just won would solve plenty. Anya froze. Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory. More importantly, _Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived_.

She added everything up and the pieces fell in place. Mr Crouch as a front- no, that was not important. Dark ritual ingredients. Rigged Tournament. Fourth Champion. Boy-Who-Lived. Portkey. Anya drew a sharp breath, now staring at the floating ball of blue lines. Slowly, she drew her wand and jabbed the ball, muttering an old, familiar incantation. Ink bled from the circle of tattooed runes around her wrist and she took a look at the results, the coordinates of the portkey signature pointed nowhere near Scotland. Harry Potter was nowhere near Hogwarts, rather, he and Cedric were somewhere in the middle of England.

Anya stared at the numbers etched on her wrist, forcing herself to take deep breaths. Her brother was probably sent right into a middle of a dark magic ritual, with Cedric as the poor passer-by. Still staring, Anya was wondering if she should take any action for her brother. She was by no means required to, and if Harry died, one less possibility of her identity revealed. Just a Portkey Charm, that was all it took, the wards against portkeys must have been temporarily disabled for the Tournament and given Hogwarts' extensive set of wards, Anya was sure that both her underage magic and unauthorised portkey would go undetected by the British Ministry's National Ward Grid.

_Do I really need to? Want to?_

Then, Sirius' letter came to her mind, urging her to keep an eye over Harry. But more importantly, the dead bodies of Kiel and Tanya, consumed by that fiendish creature, flashed across her mind. Her face pulled into a grimace and she made her choice, ignoring the shaking that had been haunting her. She was going to give Harry this chance. She was not going to let another sibling die. Checking that the Observation and Tracking Charms were still down, she picked up a pebble from the ground and pointed her wand.

"_Portus_."

The feeling of a hook across her navel plucked her away from Hogwarts, sending her into a wild spin. Next thing she knew, she landed on the outskirts of London. Summoning up her energy, she ran over to an apartment building, going up the stairs as fast as she could. Her right eye picked out an intricate network of wards place over an apartment made in a style that screamed Dimitri, this was the place they had prepared for her to stay during the summer.

Placing her hand on the knob, she felt a warm tingling sensation as the wards accepted her presence. Turning the knob and entering the place, she shut the door and headed straight away to the kitchen. Anya opened each drawer and cupboard until she found one filled with vials of potions, all of them meticulously labelled and arranged in neat rows. With a quick glance, Anya grabbed a vial of orange liquid. There was a post-it note attached to it, Anya read it and snorted.

_Please try not to abuse this._

_-D_

Anya pulled out the stopper of the Invigoration Draught and drank the whole dose, shuddering in relief as the surge of fresh energy washed over her, cleansing out the shaking and giddiness that had clung onto her since the maze. The hollow feeling in her chest seemed a lot easier to overlook and ignore. Without hesitation, she grabbed a second vial and emptied it down her throat, her body taking delight at the second dosage.

Clenching and unclenching her fist for a short while, she took another two vials of Invigoration Draught. Anya started to search for her bedroom, following the instructions Dimitri had sent her by letter a few months ago. Entering a cosy looking bedroom with calm blue walls, Anya made her way straight to a box by the bed. Opening it, she grinned slightly at its contents.

"Hello, old friends."

She emptied the box and picked up the first item, a ballistic vest. Checking the pouches, she ensured there was a standard selection of Blood-Replenishing Potions, Healing Potions, nutrient potions and antidotes. She added the two Invigoration Draughts as well. A modified first aid kit passed inspection as well, as did the tubes of thermite paste and various equipment such as modified omniculars, GPS and a toolkit.

Putting on the vest over her and fastening the clips and straps, she checked the Makarov pistol provided for any faults before finally checking her Dragunov rifle, ensuring that each part and rune were in place. A last check on the ammunition and a spare wand followed before she stowed her weapons. Anya opened her GPS, punching in the numbers on her wrist. With a minute worth of looking over her area of operations, she made her choice and turned off the device. Digging into one of her pouches, she took out a stone disc covered with runes. She activated the disc and watched as neutral lines of magic churned out from it. There was an unconscious nod of satisfaction, her underage magic would be masked from the National Ward Grid. She took out several other runic discs and activated then, watching the standard set of wards prop up.

Crumpling a piece of unused paper she found, she pointed her at it and focused on her destination. One word left her mouth and the paper glowed with a light blue hue. Anya glanced at the wards in concern, there was a slight waver, but several lines shifted and changed from green to blue. She sighed in relief, Dimitri did his job, the unauthorised portkey would go undetected as well. She reapplied the Portkey Charm on another wad of paper for later when she needed an escape. Grasping tightly at the sling of her Dragunov, Anya took a deep breath and touched the first portkey, sending her away once more in a blur.


	19. Chapter 19 - Grave Danger

**AN: Some of the scenes in this chapter had been in my mind ever since I thought up of this story. Hope the execution was well. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 19 - Grave Danger

Landing on shrubbery, Anya took note of her surroundings. Cover and concealment, entry points and exit points, magical traces and Muggle traps. Training and experience kicked in instantly as the familiarity of being in equipment with a rifle and wand seeped through her bones. Solo missions were rare and demanding, but they provided an insidious thrill that she had and still ravished. The standard set of concealment spells went up and she began her mission.

She popped open another Invigoration Draught and chugged with practiced ease, she would save the other for her exfiltration. Drawing out her wand and pistol, Anya made for the crest of the hill she had arrived on, making sure to keep her profile low as she neared the top, moving from tree to tree. Dropping to a prone and crawling the final stretch, she reached the crest of the hill overlooking where the portkey destination of the Triwizard Cup should be.

Vertigo punched her in gut as her right eye registered a pulsating wave of greenish-brown lines from the distance. If the sensation of vomiting and consuming said vomit afterwards could be transferred to the visual receptors, then that could be the uncanny description for what Anya felt like she was seeing. She shut her right eye and groaned softly in agony, but her right eye seemed to tremble on its own accord. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and she immediately understood what the nauseating lines were. It was either the rare and fabled magical signature of a homunculus which had ascended in power through a dark ritual, or it was the twisted and corrupted soul which had been responsible for cursing her right eye.

A graveyard laid before her eyes, at least six hundred meters away. There was a gathering of hooded and masked people, encircling an ongoing duel between Harry and what she could only assume to be Lord Voldemort, a dead body belonging to Cedric lay forgotten by the side. Despite the gloomy skies and eerie mist, the graveyard was lit up by a bright golden light. The Boy-Who-Lived and the Dark Lord, wands locked in a battle of will. Golden threads poured out from each wand, meeting in the middle with a golden ball of raw magical energy.

Anya unslung her rifle and flicked the bipod open, resting it on the soil. She took out her omniculars, Harry could wait, she was not tempted to interrupt an unknown magical phenomenon that might have potentially dangerous backlashes. Range, wind and a hint of Coriolis force, Anya noted the information and adjusted the rifle accordingly. A final glance at the runes on the bullets and she slid the magazine into the rifle, pulling the charging handle and waiting for the opportune moment.

Peering through the scope, she watched as the golden light weaved and shifted, morphing into various figures. Both Harry and Voldemort had dumbstruck faces on them as magic itself acted on its own whim. She lined the crosshairs on Voldemort, this time relying on the white lines in her vision to let her know when to shoot.

The figure twisted into the shape of Cedric Diggory and Anya got suspicious. Two other figures weaved into form, an old man and a woman. With a gasp, Anya was hit with the realisation that the unknown magical phenomenon was showing the victims who died by Voldemort's hand. Then, the phantoms of a young couple appeared.

That only meant that the young couple was her parents, James and Lily Potter. Her eyes widened and her jaw opened, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. They both looked so happy, so serene. She looked hungrily at them, trying to etch their faces in her memories. Growing up in Arkhangelsk, she had dreamt frequently about her parents when she was still young, they all did. Here, an old, nearly forgotten childhood dream resurfaced and she soaked herself in the feeling of seeing her long lost parents.

_Kind of like seeing Harry for the first time, huh? Not exactly the same but similar nonetheless._

They faced her brother, holding a conversation with him. She could see the shining pride glistening on their faces as they exchanged words. The white lines in her vision slowly converged. To her absolute surprise, her parents turned around and faced directly at her. Even through the lenses of her rifle scope, she could feel the subtle connection of eye contact with the phantoms of her parents, they knew she was there.

James' mouth open and years of experience in lip-reading allowed Anya to 'hear' his words. She watched the movement of his mouth in detached concentration, as though she was stuck in a blank, white and empty purgatory and his 'voice' was the only thing she could sense.

_Anne, you've grown up a lot too, such an intelligent and beautiful girl. Look after Harry will you?_

He turned his head back to Harry to say something and Lily spoke to her this time. Staring at her mother, Anya realised she inherited her looks from her mother, aside from the hair colour. Lily's lips moved and her face shone with a bright, sad and proud smile.

_Anne, you may have had a difficult and different life compared to everyone. But always remember that regardless of it all we love you and we are _so_ proud of you._

The empty purgatory that she was in suddenly ripped open, carrying her mind back to the colourful earth in a strong gust of wind. The hollow feeling in her chest that had pierced through her heart during the maze of the Fourth Task, that had made her paralysed with fear and madness, that had been suppressed under an emotional detachment and Invigoration Draughts moments ago. It found itself being filled up a little.

White lines instantly whipped around and drew pulled themselves together in a taut string and a single emotion-filled teardrop trickled from Anya's eye. She had never pulled the trigger with so much emotional attachment yet knowing with absolute and unconditional certainty that the bullet would find its mark.

The recoil was barely felt as she stared in a split second anticipation. The gold light exploded and the figures of Voldemort's victims rushed to their murderer. At the same time, the Voldemort's head blossomed into a wide burst of dark crimson. His body reeled back from the impact and he toppled unceremoniously onto the ground, leaving his group of followers frozen in shock.

Harry began running and for his sake Anya hoped that he had a plan or at least their parents gave him a plan. Maintaining her breathing pattern and trigger control, she concluded the follow through of her shot before shifting her aim slightly and releasing another round. This time, one of the masked Death Eaters beside the fallen Voldemort snapped his head back, his body spinning dramatically before landing on the floor.

A third thump followed and another Death Eater fell, this was enough to snap the remaining Death Eaters out from their traces. Shielding spells of various types were erected immediately, causing Anya's next shot to smash into an invisible wall, sending up glowing red sparks in the air like a sledgehammer on hot iron. Anya let out a soft huff of annoyance, wishing dearly that she was somehow able to get her hands on Grey's infamous Witch-Hunter bullets. Those bullets were primed with null magic meant to bypass magical protections and wards, making them one of the most perfect ammunition for killing wizards and witches.

Several Death Eaters began throwing curses at Harry, the boy in question ducking and weaving around the tombstones, using them as cover. However, each time Anya's shots slammed against the shields, the Death Eaters scrambled and dove for cover before resuming their spells. She had to give credit to the Death Eaters, they knew how to cast strong shields. The greenish-brown lines spun in the air wildly, drawing Anya's attention away from the masked men and back to Voldemort. She allowed a dash of surprise to pass through her as Voldemort rose once more, his face horribly mauled by her initial shot but still standing and breathing. It appeared that a homunculus of that calibre had some immunity to physical damage.

Voldemort was screaming something to his followers, the lack of lips and oral flexibility made it hard for Anya to lip-read his words. The Death Eaters began running for Harry and Voldemort began conjuring a massive snake-like entity that was Fiendfyre. From a safe distance, Anya had to admit that the spell was very much worth learning. Shoving aside the thoughts, Anya aimed the rifle once more at Voldemort, the opportunity was too good to pass.

The bullet flew straight at Voldemort's hand, knocking his wand arm back as his yew wand slipped out of his mangled hand. Immediately, the Fiendfyre when wild without a person to control it, descending onto its surrounding people. Once more, Voldemort gave Anya a surprise when a wave of his uninjured hand stilled the rogue fire, preventing both him and the nearby Death Eaters from meeting their demise. Well, one doesn't get called the most dangerous Dark Lord of the century without reason.

Voldemort brought down his arm and the Fiendfyre surged towards Harry, its fiery jaws wide open in an attempt to consume Harry. However, Harry was faster as he ducked behind a large tombstone, dodging its lunge while covering himself from a red curse that cracked the tombstone. Grabbing onto Cedric's dead body, he flicked his wand and summoned the Triwizard Cup towards him, disappearing into thin air.

Anya could literally see the manifestation of Voldemort's rage as the sickly brown lines flared into a frenzy. The Fiendfyre descended onto the spot where Harry was moments ago and started consuming the nearby foliage and tombstones. Death Eaters began to slowly back away from their lord, fearing his wrath.

It was tempting to stay and observe the situation, but the threat of a wild Fiendfyre raging through the place pressured Anya into taking the safer option. Slinging her Dragunov back onto her shoulders, she took out her wad of paper that was her escape portkey.

"Tungsten."

With the activation phrase spoken, she found herself flung from a gloomy countryside graveyard to the empty grasslands east of Winchester. Anya checked for witnesses and found none, she drew her wand and pointed at the spot she just landed. Muttering an incantation, the ground glowed dark red before the light faded away. With the trap set in the event someone happened to foolishly tail her to her exact portkey destination, Anya took out a tightly folded bag. Unfolding it to its original form, she stripped herself of her ballistic vest and various equipment. She stowed them in her bag and proceeded to disassemble her sniper rifle into its parts, storing them in the bag as well. She checked her appearance in a pocket mirror to find it satisfactory, she would look like any random backpacker or hiker to others.

Making sure her wand and pistol was well hidden in her jacket, she put on her bag pack, drained her final vial of Invigoration Draught and began her run towards the aforementioned city. She had travelled further with heavier loads in the frigid Arkhangelsk winter, this three mile journey would be easy. She kept up her pace all the way, time was of the essence, every minute she wasted was a minute she was missing in Hogwarts.

Half an hour and she was in the fringes of the city. Anya checked her watch and cursed, wishing that she had already nailed down Apparition. Three miles was a good enough distance and she kept up a spell that erased her trail as she ran. Several layers of glamour charms turned her into a middle-aged witch with stuffy robes. Sticking out her wand arm, she awaited the arrival of the Knight Bus and mentally prepared herself to see if the exalted rumours were true about a ride on the Knight Bus.

**XXXXX**

Pain seared through Harry's limbs as the conjured ropes bound him tightly to a tombstone. But the pain was overshadowed by a bigger pain stinging his scar. That in turn was overshadowed by fear, he stared with a pale face at the bubbling cauldron in front of him.

He was begging in his hearts of hearts that the wretched thing would drown in the green liquid, it would be so easy, so simple. Harry Potter was many things, but easy and simple was nowhere near the list. His heart clenched with horror when steam gushed out from the cauldron, revealing the silhouette of a tall figure.

"Robe me."

Lord Voldemort was reborn. It sounded unreal to Harry's ears, it felt like a nightmare rather than reality. Voldemort looked like a nightmare rather than reality. Bald, white, noseless and blood-red eyes, his limbs and body were willowy but throbbing with an unrestrained strength. Wormtail draped a set of long, black robes over his shoulders. Voldemort flexed his fingers, turning them around before slowly running them around his body though to inspect for any defects. With the satisfied smile on his face, it appeared as though there was none.

"Thirteen years," Voldemort murmured. "It has been thirteen years since I had a real body."

He gripped on the rim of the cauldron he was still in.

"It feels... good," his grip tightened on the rim. Voldemort leaned forwards slightly, applying pressure on the cauldron.

A loud crack and the cauldron shattered.

"Very good in fact."

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now, he had wrapped the stump of his dismembered arm in them.

"My Lord..." he choked. "My Lord... you promised... you did promise..."

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master... thank you, Master..."

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please... please..."

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm, forcing up the sleeves to reveal the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it... and now, we shall see... now we shall know... "

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

The scar on Harry's forehead seared with a sharp pain, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl. Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort turned his attention to Harry. "A pleasure to meet you once again, it has been three years has it not?"

Voldemort strode over to Harry, leaning over him. His fist lunged and flew past Harry's ear, smashing against the tombstone. Bits of marble burst into the air, but Voldemort's fist barely had a scratch or bruise on it. The fist that had connected with the tombstone unclenched itself, moving over to cup Harry's chin, lifting his face to meet red eyes.

An explosion of pain erupted in Harry's head, as Voldemort touched his skin. He jerked about wildly but the ropes restricted his movements. Voldemort released a cold laugh.

"Three years indeed. And look how the tables have turned. Where once I recoiled in pain from your touch," Voldemort removed his hand from Harry's chin and pressed his finger against the lightning shaped scar. Harry's shriek of pain drowned Voldemort's next words. "Now it appears to be the other way round."

"And of course, those green eyes," Voldemort reminisced as he gazed on Harry's eyes as his head snapped back against the tombstone, eye bulging out from the pain. "How nostalgic. It seemed not so long ago when I murdered your father and mother, both pathetically weak. Oh, how your mother begged. Then I proceeded to steal the light from one of those green eyes, the wails of your twin was exceedingly annoying, did you know?"

Harry could not respond, he could not think. Not with the pain clawing at his head.

"Your mother, your twin and you, all of you with those green eyes. And all of you so terribly weak," Voldemort sneered. "Dead from simply losing an eye, pathetic. I wanted your twin alive too, a sole heiress to the Potter fortune? Only a fool would waste that opportunity, one simple betrothal contract to any one of my Death Eaters' children is all it takes."

The words managed to worm their way into Harry's subconscious but he could not bring himself to react to Voldemort's words. Pain was all he felt.

"But she just had to die, how disgustingly _Potter_ of her," Voldemort spat, turning around leaving Harry. "But I have spoken about your family for too long, let's change the subject to my own family. For they have returned."

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. Harry's breathe hitched in his throat, this was going bad.

**XXXXX**

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, the-"

"Kensington High Street, London," said Anya testily, shoving a galleon into his hands. "Make it quick."

"Alrighty," Stan Shunpike, the conductor of the Knight Bus, accepted the generous tip and nodded to the driver. "Well Ern, you 'eard 'er, lady's on a rush and we better move fast."

Anya stepped aboard the bus and settled herself into one of the seat, wondering why the bus was lacking in seatbelts. The bus lurched forward and Anya gripped the handlebars tightly as they disappeared with a bang.

**XXXXX**

The Death Eaters clung on to Voldemort's every word as he regaled them with the story of his rebirth. When the last sentence was spoken, Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.

"_Crucio_!"

It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end... to black out... to die...

And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters' laughter.

"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching.

"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

Wormtail approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand, pulled out the wad of material gagging Harry, and then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone.

There was a split second, perhaps, when Harry might have considered running for it, but his injured leg shook under him as he stood on the overgrown grave, as the Death Eaters closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around him and Voldemort, so that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled. Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where Cedric's body lay and returned with Harry's wand, which he thrust roughly into Harry's hand without looking at him. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters.

"You have been taught how to duel. Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.

At these words Harry remembered, as though from a former life, the duelling club at Hogwarts he had attended briefly two years ago. All he had learned there was the Disarming Spell, that was hardly enough in a fight against Voldemort. He filtered through the spells he had been drilling since he was forced to join the Tournament. Stunning Spell, Reductor Curse, Blasting Curse, Full-Body Bind- no, the last one was a dud in this case. The short time spent training with Anya had taught him that the best spells in combat were the ones with the shortest incantation. Sure, the Killing Curse was dark and powerful but in the time it takes for Voldemort to cast one, he could theoretically cast two Blasting Curses. Various plans and tactics started to form in his head, his mind working on top speed and his breathing rate increasing.

_For starters, calm down. You're a Gryffindor, be brave._

The words of his sister subconsciously hit him and he remembered the sensation of being trapped in the Third Task. Telling himself this was the same, Harry wretched control from the hands of panic and steeled himself. He just needed a simple plan and in the meantime, just stay alive.

**XXXXX**

The moment she stepped out from the Knight Bus, Anya muttered a Notice-Me-Not Charm while dropping her glamour charms simultaneously. Her appearance reverted from middle-aged witch back to Muggle backpacker.

Looking around to orientate herself, Anya found her destination and broke into a brisk walk, heading for the tube station. A few transactions later and she was boarding a train of the London Underground.

This was the standard evasion tactics that Nathaniel had taught them, combine both magical and Muggle means of movement to throw off any pursuers.

**XXXXX**

Everyone in the graveyard was in shock, Harry, the Death Eaters and even Voldemort. When the Disarming Spell from Harry and the Killing Curse from Voldemort met in the middle, red and green gave way to a thread of bright gold, meeting in the middle in a big ball of golden magic. Their two wands connected and the thrilling music of a phoenix's song filled the air.

Harry's jaw dropped in surprise as the figure of Cedric Diggory formed. If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then, but instinct kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken.

The figures of an old man and Bertha Jorkins materialised as well, all of them shouting words of encouragement to Harry. Another figure before to form and Harry stared with anticipation, he knew who was about to come from the other side. A tall man with the same messy hair as him, identical to the one he had saw in the Mirror of Erised, James Potter.

"Your mother's coming..." he said quietly. "She wants to see you... it will be all right... hold on..."

Once more, a figure weaved into existence beside his father, with the lack of colours in their ghostly forms, she would have looked like Anya had she done her hair up in a simple ponytail. Lily Potter appeared and gazed longingly at Harry, a smile on her lips.

"Sweet Merlin, you grew up a lot, Harry," Lily said softly. "I wish I could have been there to see you grow up."

"Me too Lily," said James, putting his arm on Lily's shoulder. "He's a proud Gryffindor just like us."

"Watch over Anne, will you?" Lily requested with a smile, her eyes crinkling as she did, just like Anya. "Because she is doing the same right now, for you. Remember that I will always love you, both of you."

Harry nodded in confusion but he still stared at his parents with a strong yearning. The wand in his hands trembled even harder but he still managed to keep his grip. Then, his parents looked away from him, into the distance.

"Anne, you've grown up a lot too, such an intelligent and beautiful girl. Look after Harry will you?" said James.

James turned back to Harry, speaking to him.

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments but we will give you time you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

"Harry..." whispered the figure of Cedric. "Take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents."

"I will," said Harry, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.

"Anne, you may have had a difficult and different life compared to everyone," said Lily as she still stared into the distance. "But always remember that regardless of it all we love you and that we are so proud of you."

"Now, Harry!" the voice of James echoed in his ears as soon as Lily finished her speech.

"NOW!" Harry yelled, he didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway. He pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke, the phoenix song died. Immediately, the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims closed in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze.

Voldemort began to rise his wand, but the impossible happened in front of Harry's eyes. Voldemort's head cleaved open in a torrent of gore, sending him onto the ground. Not wasting the deus ex machina bestowed upon him, Harry took off into a sprint. Once more he heard another crack of a head opening and the thump of a body falling, sending wild panic through the Death Eaters. When he heard the third body fall, the Death Eaters came to their senses and spells erupted all over.

Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two Death Eaters busy casting shields aside as he passed. He zigzagged behind tombstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the tombstones.

"POTTER! HOW DARE YOU!" the sound of Voldemort's roar, sent a shiver down his spine, there was no way he had survived that. This only urged Harry to run even faster. "Stun him! Bring him to me!"

Ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed out from behind the angel.

"_Stupefy_!" he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him. The Death Eater crumpled onto the floor without even having the chance to be surprised.

Harry chanced a look at Voldemort and gasped in terror, Voldemort had conjured a monstrous snake made of fire. The snaked encircled Voldemort and rose high into the air, facing directly at Harry and coiling itself for a lunge.

Once more, divine intervention struck Voldemort's wand hand, reducing it to a bloody mess as the wand slipped from his hands. The fiery snake shrieked in madness as its caster lost control, Harry seized the opportunity and began running once more towards the body of Cedric.

"TWICE! POTTER! YOU WILL NOT DO THAT AGAIN!"

Next thing he knew, he heard the hissing screech coming behind him and he dove for cover immediately, landing onto Cedric and behind a tombstone. From the corner of his eye, he realised that he had just dodged death as the fiery snake had landed its jaws where he was just moments ago. The heat from it was sweltering and Harry next that he had seconds left.

"_Accio_!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle. He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the portkey had worked – it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and colour, and Cedric along with him.

**XXXXX**

Once again, Anya arrived in front of the apartment building she had been in an hour ago. An hour, that was enough to get people suspicious, she had to act fast. Rushing up the stairs once more, she deposited everything she had taken, leaving her with what she had when she left Hogwarts.

Crushing another piece of paper for a portkey, and stopped to consider her choices. Straight to Hogwarts into the maze where she once was, or Hogsmeade then Shrieking Shack, tunnel, Whomping Willow and finally back to Hogwarts.

It would be too suspicious if she got to the castle without ever crossing paths with a Tournament official. And if her guess was right, there were probably several searching parties combing the maze in a wild manhunt for her. Placing herself in their hands would result in less questions.

"_Portus_."

Another Portkey Charm and Anya found herself speeding away into blurriness. She landed back onto the soft ground of the Quidditch field, she considered firing red sparks but that would lead to questions as to why she didn't do it beforehand.

With that in mind, she simply laid down on the ground and stared blankly at the sky. Sooner or later, someone would pick her up and in the meantime it was a good opportunity for her to gather her thoughts. The day had been nothing short of a whirlwind, leaving her disoriented with all that has happened.

As the adrenaline slowly wore off, the images of Kiel and Tanya came back to her mind. The cold grip on her chest tightened and Anya found herself curling up into a fetal position. The sight and sound from past memories stabbing holes all over her. She realised she would not be gathering her thoughts anytime soon.


	20. Chapter 20 - Prelude to War

Chapter 20 - Prelude to War

It was Moody. Everything. His forced participation of the Triwizard Tournament. The hints and assistance. The incident in the Third Task. The Portkey. It was all a calculated plan and behind the smoke and mirrors stood the puppet master he least expected.

Then again, it wasn't really Moody, just an impostor. Barty Crouch Junior, a man thought to be long dead. Dumbledore led Harry to the Hospital Wing, leaving behind Professor McGonagall to watch over Barty Crouch. A firm hand guided him towards an anxious Madam Pomfrey, who laid him gingerly on a bed and began running diagnostic spells on him and healing up the various cuts and bruises he had suffered.

Slowly, the reality hit him hard. Cedric was dead and Voldemort was back, he could already feel it, war was just over the horizon. The peaceful days that he once had were now numbered. He was too tired to do anything, the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse still stung his body, causing him to twitch every now and then.

Regrettably, there were no methods to mitigate such aftereffects, he did not need Madam Pomfrey's sympathetic words to know, the essay 'Moody' had assigned them during his first lesson taught him that. All he could do was to try and sleep it off, which he fail to do when the doors of the Hospital Wing flew wide open. The Weasley family who had been present, along with Hermione, immediately swarmed over him.

Mrs Weasley was the first to reach Harry, drawing him into a tight hug and sobbing hysterically. The others hovered around him, watching him with great concern in their eyes. Dumbledore placed a hand on Mrs Weasley's shoulder, getting her attention.

"Molly, please listen to me," said Dumbledore. "Harry has just been through a rough ordeal, please allow him to rest and relax. We still need him to relay to the events that has happened during his disappearance."

"Understood, Dumbledore," Mrs Weasley nodded and unwillingly released Harry, feeling as though the boy needed more care and affection. "Should we leave the two you alone?"

"It's alright Molly, I daresay you have cared enough for Harry to deserve listening to what he has to say."

Mr Weasley took out his wand and summoned several chairs for everyone to sit on, helping his still worried wife onto a chair.

"Uh... excuse me, Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked tentatively, seeing as Dumbledore had yet to prompt Harry into speaking. "May I ask what we are waiting for?"

"A few more people of importance, Ms Granger," Dumbledore answered, glancing at the entrance of the Hospital Wing. "I had sent for him when the Observation Charms failed and Harry had disappeared for far too long, he should be arriving shortly."

As though on cue, the doors of the Hospital Wing opened to reveal Snape leading in a great black dog. Despite his exhaustion, Harry snorted softly, Snape was in for a surprise.

"Ah, that should be everyone," said Dumbledore before turning to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, would you be very kind, and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"V-very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled but nonetheless she left the Hospital Wing.

Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed before he continued.

"And now," he said. "It is time for two of our number to recognise each other for what they are. Sirius, if you could resume your usual form."

The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.

Mrs Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.

"Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.

"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!"

Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror, especially so when he realised that he had been the one leading Sirius into the castle and Hospital Wing.

"Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them. "As are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

Harry thought Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.

"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice. "For a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any us."

Very slowly – but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill – Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly. Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction and turned to Harry.

"Now, Harry if you are feeling up to it," Dumbledore said soothingly. "Can you share with us what happened when you were gone?"

Harry nodded firmly if a bit tiredly, and began speaking, recounting the events that had followed when he grabbed the Triwizard Cup. With each passing sentence, the atmosphere got thicker and thicker with dread. Cedric's death, Voldemort's resurrection, the return of the Death Eaters. When he got to his duel with Voldemort and how he had been subjected to the Cruciatus, Mrs Weasley broke into fresh tears and Sirius rested his hand comfortingly on Harry's shoulders.

Then, Harry got to the part where his wand and Voldemort's connected upon casting spells on one another. Dumbledore revealed that the wands were brother wands, both sharing the phoenix feathers belong to Fawkes, Dumbledore's familiar.

"Cedric appeared. An old man," Harry said, his throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And..."

"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Yes," said Harry.

Sirius's grip on Harry's shoulder was now so tight it was painful.

"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows... what did they do?"

"They surrounded us, they spoke to me and to Voldemort too I think," said Harry, the memories of his parents' words to him resurging. "And then mum and dad... they... they spoke to me."

"What did James and Lily say?" Sirius asked.

"That they were so proud of me and..."

_And Anne_. Harry found it strange that the shadows of his parents randomly called out to Anya, but he figured that they were probably omniscient.

"And that they love me," Harry finished, despite the trauma of the graveyard, Harry knew that he was not going to betray Anya's trust anytime soon.

"Rightly so," Dumbledore nodded. "Please carry on."

"The shadows... they began to swarm Voldemort when I broke the connection. Then the strangest thing happened."

Everyone looked at Harry with anticipation as Harry tried to find the correct words.

"His head blew open," said Harry lamely, unsure of how he should phrase his words.

"What!?" cried Ron from the side who had been thus far, listening quietly.

"Please elaborate, Harry," Dumbledore coaxed gently.

"I don't really know it myself," Harry explained. "But it was like as if something invisible smashed against Voldemort's head, his just toppled onto the floor."

"He died!?" Sirius gasped.

"No," Harry shook his head. "He came back up. Whatever it was didn't kill him. It wasn't just him, two other Death Eaters got hit as well, they died."

"Maybe, it was you" Mr Weasley suggested. "I've heard that in moments of great distress, people could perform impossible feats of magic. After all, you were the one who defeated You-Know-Who."

"It wasn't me," Harry said flatly, shaking his head vehemently. "I didn't even know what was going, I simply wanted to survive and get out."

"Maybe you thought you didn't, but you actually did," said Sirius.

"No, it wasn't me. How could I have even-"

"Harry, it's alright," said Dumbledore calmly. "There's no need to say anymore, you have already shown great bravery by telling us what you have witnessed. For now, rest, Madam Pomfrey would be back later and I believe that a Potion for Dreamless Sleep would be in order."

"Fine, how are the other champions?" Harry asked, thinking of Anya. "Moody didn't end up killing anyone else right? He had confessed to placing Krum under the Imperius Curse after all."

"All the other champions are roughed up from the task itself but otherwise fine," Dumbledore replied. "Well... all except for Ms Seryy, she has been missing ever since the Observation Charms fell."

"What!?"

Both Harry and Sirius yelped at the same time, with Harry shooting up from his bed. Sirius made for the door, turning the knob with only rattled in response. Dumbledore had magically locked the door when Madam Pomfrey left.

"Dumbledore, open the door!" Sirius barked. "I need to go!"

"Where to Sirius?" Dumbledore asked, confused by both Harry and Sirius' reactions, as was everyone else in the room. "You can't just leave like that, you'll get caught."

"I can turn into my animagus form, no big deal," Sirius waved off Dumbledore's concern, still twisting the knob with all his might. "Just open the damn door."

"Does this have to do with Ms Seryy?"

"Of course it does!" Sirius snarled. "Door. Open. Now."

"Sirius, calm down," Dumbledore tried to placate Sirius who was growing more frustrated with each passing second. "I don't understand why this is such a big deal but rest assured, the Tournament officials will find her. Voldemort has just been resurrected and we need to begin preparing-"

"She could be dead for all we know! Harry and Cedric were missing and look what happened!"

Everyone swung their heads back and forth between the two men who were each engaged in verbal tennis match that was growing more heated. Harry was torn between rushing out with Sirius to make sure his sister was safe and keeping up the promise of not revealing her. Snape had enough with what he assumed to be Sirius' nonsensical ramblings and faced his old rival.

"Black, learn to show some restraint in front of your betters and keep you mangy mouth shut, you have clearly lost your mind."

Snape seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Sirius roared, slamming against the doors, prompting Mrs Weasley to give a shriek of fear and panic as everyone backed away from him. "I want the doors open, NOW!"

"Sirius-"

"No," said Sirius. He had lowered his voice, but each syllable was dripping with venom. "You don't get to do this to her again. You do _not_ abandon her again. You hear me?"

"Sirius, just what are you talking abo-"

The words drowned in Dumbledore's sudden realisation as his eyes widened at the revelation that had hit him. For everyone in the room, it was the first time they had seen Dumbledore stumped.

"You can't possibly mean-"

"You know damn well what- no, _who_ I mean," said Sirius bitterly, narrowing his eyes in anger. "You also owe me and Harry an explanation too. Now open the door."

"Sirius, you'll get caught," Hermione pleaded from the side.

"I. Don't. Care."

"Sirius, I understand the circumstances now," Dumbledore began but Snape cut him off with a sneer directed at Sirius.

"Dumbledore, Black has made it repeatedly clear that he is willing to risk his neck on this crusade of his, whatever it is. By all means, let him do so."

Sighing, Dumbledore unlocked the door with a flick of his wand. Sirius threw it open and gasped in shock as the doorway revealed two Tournament officials supporting an Anya who was barely able to walk on her own feet. The two Tournament officials looked up and their jaws dropped in panic and surprise. The one on his right released his hold on Anya to draw his wand while the other pulled Anya back in an attempt to shield her from Sirius.

"_Stupefy_."

The words came from Anya's mouth as she drew her wand out and aimed it at the armed Tournament official collapsed without the chance to utter a spell. Simultaneously, the arm that had been around the other Tournament official's shoulder for support tightened around said official's neck. A flick of her wrist and a snap of her fingers sent an electric shock coursing through the Tournament official.

His body went into a spasm as the electricity rushed through muscle, sending him onto the floor. Anya's exhausted state meant that she fell onto the floor as well, flopping on cold stone with a soft grunt. She swung her wand around and sent another Stunner straight at his chest. The Tournament official gave a slight gasp before going unconscious.

Nobody moved as Anya clawed her way up onto her feet, casting Memory Charms and concealment spells on both Tournament officials. With both Tournament officials dealt with, Anya finally left herself go, dropping back onto the floor and shaking uncontrollably.

"Anne!" Sirius cried out, rushing over to the girl.

Dumbledore's face paled upon Sirius' confirmation while everyone else looked completely flummoxed, except for Harry who realised what Sirius had done.

"Sirius!" said Harry in a tone that was part aghast and part warning. "You can't..."

As Sirius knelt down to help Anya up, the girl shot out an arm which grabbed the collars of Sirius' robes, pulling him down to eye level. The girl stared at Sirius, her eyes hard as diamonds.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Anya growled, struggling to not pass out on the spot. "I thought Harry made it very clear that you do not-"

"I don't care, Anne," Sirius retorted furiously. "You can't expect me to care about that when you come in here half dead. I almost failed you and I'm not letting that happen again. You and Harry's safety is my top priority. Come, you need medical assistance."

"Kind of rich talking about ensuring my safety when you're revealing my identity to that man behind you who looks like he has just seen a ghost."

Sirius glanced back at the pale-faced Dumbledore and turned back to Anya with a grimace.

"I'll take care of it," Sirius muttered.

"You'd better," said Anya, her grip on Sirius slowly slipping. "And that goes for everyone in the room as well. I don't care if you have to bury their dead bodies later."

With her last words spoken, Anya finally lost her grip on Sirius' robes. She would have fallen back onto the stone floor had Sirius not caught her. Lifting her up into his arms, Sirius carried Anya into the Hospital Wing and laid her onto one of the bed.

"Where were you?" Sirius asked. "You've been missing for almost an hour."

"In the maze," said the girl tiredly, her eyes threatening to shut. "Bit off more than I could chew and tired myself out."

"Why did it take so long for the Tournament officials to find you?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Anya mumbled before falling unconscious.

Taking Anya's wand, Sirius perform a few diagnostic spells, trying to remember the basic first aid training he had received as a Hit Wizard years ago. Several numbers simmered into the air as he cast the spells. Sirius took a look at the numbers before sighing in relief.

"Thank Merlin," said Sirius as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just magical exhaustion."

"Just what the bloody hell was that all about?" cried Ron, earning a cuff on the back of his head from Mrs Weasley for his language.

Ron's words broke Sirius from his trance. Aiming Anya's wand at the Hospital Wing door, he magically shut the door and locked it. Everyone who had been staring recoiled as Sirius turned to face them, the dark look on his face giving them the impression that he had been a mass murderer all along.

"No one, _no one_, is to speak of the events that had just occurred. Is everyone clear?"

The words that left his mouth was soft, but that was an edge to it that made sure that everyone heard it crystal clear.

"And I want an Unbreakable Vow from each of you to make sure of it."

"Really, Black?" Snape sneered. "I may not know just what is going on but it is apparent to everyone here that this outburst is completely due to your own folly. Please, do not shackle all of us down because of your shortcomings."

Sirius took an angry step towards Snape who in response moved his arm closer to the wand in his robes. However, Dumbledore stepped in between the two men who were moments away from starting a fight.

"Severus, Sirius, remember the words 'lack of open hospitality'?" Dumbledore reminded the two men who begrudgingly backed off, moving to opposite sides of the Hospital Wing. "Also, be reasonable Sirius. It is impossible for everyone here to take an Unbreakable Vow, the magical strain will kill you."

"Then I want all of you here to swear that you would not reveal the events that had just transpired," Sirius demanded, gnashing his teeth in anger. "Dumbledore, you _owe_ her. Everyone else, do it for Harry's sake. And Snape... if this ever leaks out, I'll kill you."

"Sirius, what's going on?" Hermione asked timidly, afraid that Sirius might lash out at her. "Why does Dumbledore owe her? Why Harry's sake? Why did you call her Anne?"

"That's because she _is_ Anne," Harry answered with a sigh, watching his unconscious sister resting on the bed next to his. "My guess at the start of the year was right, Hermione. She _is_ my sister."

There were cries of surprise at his declaration. Dumbledore continued staring at the girl, ashen faced. Snape had an expression that was a mix of horror and bewilderment.

"Sirius," Harry sighed, turning to his godfather. "You know she trusted me to keep this a secret, she trusted both of us..."

Sirius' anger deflated at his words and he hung his head in shame.

"I know... I was just too worried to think. I was very glad that she turned up to be alive, but the threat of losing her all over again was just..."

"Why did she want her true identity kept a secret?" Hermione asked.

"I have a very good guess as to why that was the case," Sirius shot Dumbledore a nasty glare. "And I think he owes me and Harry, and maybe even Anne, an explanation."

"Why would he-" Harry's words were cut short as he was struck with a realisation. Sirius had passed Anya and him to Hagrid who in turn passed them to Dumbledore. His memory from the end of his third year reminded him of Hagrid mentioning Anya's demise according to Dumbledore. How did Dumbledore even make such a mistake of determining whether or not one was alive, and how did Anya end up in Russia, he had always asked her but she never answered the question. Somewhere down the line, Dumbledore resulted in Anya growing up in Russia where Harry was sure Anya received all her scars from.

Sirius was right. Dumbledore did have some explaining to do.

"In private, Sirius?" Dumbledore pleaded wearily. "Voldemort is back, we have pressing matters at hand."

Flickering his eyes towards the Weasleys and Snape, Sirius gave Dumbledore a firm, if cautious, nod. It was there, that the Order of Phoenix was reactivated, Dumbledore immediately gave out orders for Sirius to recall all the former members. Dumbledore himself left the Hospital Wing to deal with the unconscious Tournament officials that Anya had left behind and to prepare himself for a meeting with the Minister of Magic.

Sirius brushed away a loose lock of hair from Anya's face, giving her forehead a soft kiss. Then, he gave Harry a firm hug.

"I'll see you soon Harry, and watch over Anne, will you?"

Harry nodded, watching Sirius transform back into his animagus form. The black dog, stood on its hind legs and turned the knob to the Hospital Wing door before trotting out.

_Watch over Anne, will you? Because she is doing the same right now, for you._

The words of his mother echoed in his mind, it sounded so similar to Sirius' words. No, he did not mind watching over her, he had promised himself to take care of her when he had first noticed her scars.

However, the second half of his mother's words seemed to hint something, but he could not place his finger on it. Maybe his sister was watching over him, the Third Task certainly provided good evidence. But other than that, Anya's actions gave him the impression that an acquaintance was the highest degree of relationship she would ever offer him.

The doors of the Hospital Wing opened to reveal a returning Madam Pomfrey, who promptly gasped at the sight of Anya and proceeded to treat her immediately. As for Harry, she gave him a vial of Potion for Dreamless Sleep, stating that he needed the rest. Harry drunk the potion and the sleepy sensation descended upon him within moments. Soon, he was lulled into a deep sleep.

When Harry woke up, it was still night time. It appeared that the Weasley family, along with Hermione, had stayed in the Hospital Wing. How Madam Pomfrey allowed such an act was a puzzle that Harry tried to solve, but he was interrupted by the loud noises of furious screaming.

"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

"That's Fudge's voice," Mrs Weasley whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

The sound grew louder and more distinct, enough for Harry to pick up snatches of the conversation, or argument.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva-" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out-"

Harry heard the Hospital Wing doors burst open. Unnoticed by any of the people around his bed, all of whom were staring at the door as Bill pulled back the screens, Harry sat up and put his glasses on, someone had removed them when he slept. He took a quick check on Anya to find her still sleeping, undisturbed by the noise.

That, or she was pretending to be sleeping. In the short span of knowing her, Harry wouldn't put it pass her to do such a thing. After all, she gave him absolutely no hint in being his sister until she was unwillingly forced to.

Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs Weasley.

"He's not here," said Mrs Weasley angrily. "This is the Hospital Wing. Minister, don't you think you'd do better to-"

But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch-"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"

Harry had never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this. There were angry blotches of colour in her cheeks, and a hands were balled into fists, she was trembling with fury.

"When we told Mr Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice. "He seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch-"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but-"

"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who likewise looked angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous-"

But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.

"The moment that- that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over. "It swooped down on Crouch and- and-"

Harry felt a chill in his stomach as Professor McGonagall struggled to find words to describe what had happened. He did not need her to finish her sentence. He knew what the dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal kiss to Barty Crouch. It had sucked his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.

The conversation that followed left Harry more and more shocked. He had never placed much stock into politicians and although Harry found Fudge to be a run-of-the-mill politician, he had never expected him to act like this. Fudge's vehement denial of Voldemort's rebirth, along with his pushing of blame and personal attacks on him and Dumbledore – intentional or not – left a sour taste in Harry's mouth. Then again, this was the man who placed Hagrid in Azkaban and allowed Dumbledore to be removed from Hogwarts during his second year, Harry felt like he should have seen this coming.

To top off the ignorance of Fudge, he refused to take a freshly activated Dark Mark on the arms of a proven Death Eater – Severus Snape – as evidence that Voldemort was resurrected. He would not even view that as something worth investigating.

At the end of the argument, Fudge dropped Harry's Tournament prize at the nightstand and muttered an awkward congratulations before scurrying out of the Hospital Wing. As he left, he gave Dumbledore a pointed glare and slammed the doors shut. It was a grim notice to Harry and those in the Hospital Wing.

War was coming and the Ministry was far from ready.

By the next morning, Harry woke up to see the Hospital Wing empty. It appeared that Madam Pomfrey finally got the Weasleys out. He checked the bed on his right to find Anya awake, nursing a vial of orange potion. She was staring blankly at the opposite wall, a haunted, tired look etched clearly on her face. Harry remembered Sirius' words when he did a check on Anya, just magical exhaustion. He heaved a sigh of relief, at least there was no actually damage on her. Cedric dying had been enough to ensure future nightmares, if Anya had went along to the graveyard to be killed as well, the guilt would have swallowed him whole.

Still, the fact that his sister looked like she had been through an ordeal just as bad as his did not bode well. After all, following mom's, Sirius' and his own promise, he had to take care of her. He got up from his bed and went to sit on Anya's bed, the girl did not acknowledge his presence.

"How are you?" Harry asked softly.

Anya did not respond to his question, choosing to finish her vial of potion instead.

"I'm sorry on Sirius' behalf. He shouldn't have done that, it's just that he was worried for you."

"And now a great deal of people know the truth," Anya murmured, setting the vial by her night stand.

"What are you going to do now?"

"Place what trust I have left in our godfather to do his job."

_What trust I have left._

Those words stung harder than it should have and Harry knew why. Both during the Third Task and when her identity was revealed – two moments when the stakes were high and she could not afford to act – she relied on trust in one another. Harry felt that in Anya's eyes, trust was paramount, and Sirius failed her in that aspect. He, by extension, had failed too.

"And... Dumbledore," Harry asked. "What did Sirius mean by Dumbledore owed you?"

A shrug was her response. Harry sighed, maybe she was truly tired from the Fourth Task.

"Rest, you need it," Harry told Anya gently as he went back to his bed, awaiting Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis and judgement.

Madam Pomfrey deemed Harry healthy enough to be discharged from her realm, but Anya had to stay for another day. Madam Pomfrey refused to take any chances for magical exhaustion, especially when it was the girl's second time here for the very same reason.

The rest of Harry's time in Hogwarts was subdued, there was no peace in the classes or corridors. Whispers followed him as they once did in his second year, rumours and theories sprouting up in the hundreds as he went by. Peace came instead from the time he could spend isolated from the school, together with Ron and Hermione. Hagrid, too, had managed to offer him some semblance of serenity.

"So... you were right, huh?" said Hermione shortly after Harry was released from the Hospital Wing. "Anya Seryy being Anne Potter. How long have you known?"

"Since after the Third Task, Madam Pomfrey unknowingly removed her glamour charms when treating the acromantula venom. Revealed the scar down her eye."

"She seemed friendly enough towards you. At least now it's not just Snuffles who's your family."

His sister, on the other hand, recovered much better than him. Harry could see her occasionally, hanging out with the younger Greengrass and sometimes with Zabini and Nott, it appeared that the Fourth Task had done little to change her.

_Then again, she wasn't there to see Voldemort resurrected._

This time, the End-of-Year feast had a much more melancholic and morose atmosphere. House colours were replaced with a mourning black in service of Cedric. Dumbledore took the opportunity to drop a bombshell on the students, announcing the return of Lord Voldemort and commending Harry for his bravery in facing Voldemort. Harry did not want any of it, he just wanted some peace, and peace was scarce. And in the coming days, it would only grow more scarce.

Soon, the schooling year had ended and the dormitories began to clear, the students stuffing their belongings back into the trunks. They always seemed to leave Hogwarts with heavier trunks, mainly due to knick-knacks slowly accumulated throughout the year from Hogsmeade or other students. Once again, Harry found himself in front of the Hogwarts Express, the final stretch before returning to the mundane.

"Harry," Ron prodded his back, catching his attention. "Your sister's there, want to invite her along?"

Harry looked at where Ron had pointed. True enough, Anya was down the Hogsmeade Station platform, chatting with Astoria.

"I don't know."

"Just talk to her," Hermione urged while Ron nodded supportively. "You always wanted to."

"Fine," Harry sighed, making his way towards Anya.

As he approached, the younger Greengrass said something to Anya and pointed at him. Their conservation stopped as Anya turned to face him, giving him a polite nod.

"Harry, see you after the summer I guess."

"Yeah, see you too," Harry smiled wanly. "Do you have any plans over the summer?"

"Nothing much," she shrugged. "Astoria invited me to stay over at her place sometime in the summer. Other than that, I suppose it's just spending time with my family."

"Why?" Anya lifted an eyebrow. "Are you thinking of inviting me over too?"

That sounded very good to Harry. The idea of spending time with his real family, what little there was left of it, felt like a dream come true. And from the looks of Anya, she did not mind coming over. Ironically, being trapped in the dungeons with a horde of acromantulas was the best thing to have happened this year, it allowed his sister to relent into having a warm if not cordial relationship with him.

However, the Dursleys would never allow this, so Harry found himself shaking his head at Anya's question.

"No, just curious," he wanted to ask her to sit with him on the ride back to King's Cross Station, but looking at Astoria as well as Nott and Zabini coming along from the back, he decided that she should be with her friends. Maybe next year. "Bye then."

Harry headed back to Ron and Hermione, picking up his trunk and boarding the Hogwarts Express. It was going to be another long summer.

* * *

**AN: Well, that's twenty chapters done and the first year done. Hope you all here enjoyed it and a big thanks to those that have been sticking it through this story. Special thanks to JohnMonty and siriuslydany for the reviews throughout the chapters, letting me know how the story has been in the eyes of the audience.**

**Next year in the story will be one big fiesta with many new additions, especially lore and worldbuilding cracked up. If those redacted DoM documents were your thing and you wanted to see more of my worldbuilding, hopefully fifth year will be your cup of tea. Pacing will most likely change, so do let me know how it feels when it starts.**

**Some AN trivia that I forgot for the Third Task: **_Bauzuk_**, the spell Anya used to scare the acromantulas, is basically Cantonese for 'firecracker'. Cause, you know, that dialect is phonetically more similar to ancient ****Chinese and I thought it would be nice to add some foreign spells.**

**The stuff below is just pure trivia, skip if you desire.**

**Also, some quick explanation on my thought process in my worldbuilding for this story for those of you curious. A lot of things will be tethered to J.K. Rowling's canon, but anything in between is free real estate. Take how I handle underage magic for example, many fanfics just use the tracked wand reasoning which is fine but following canon, Dobby's levitation spell in Second Year and Harry's wandless inflation spell on Marge in Third Year are both detected by the Ministry which means wands don't matter. However, Tom Riddle Jr. going around Little Hangleton casting spells left and right is _not _detected by the Ministry simply due to his uncle's presence in the village.**

**This provides two facts regarding underage magic. One, Ministry detects magic from caster, not wand (I'll assume Ministry officials were just lazy with Dobby and pinned it on Harry cause I'm pretty sure underage magic and elvish magic are very different). Two, Ministry cannot detect underage magic when there is magic of an adult nearby. With these upper limit and lower limit provided by canon (which is which I don't know). My creative free real estate, Ministry can detect underage magic because underage wizards and witches generate a certain type of magical signature when casting, but said magical signature is easily concealed by nearby adult magic if any.**

**Hence, when Anya activated the runic disc that generated neutral magic before going to the graveyard, she is basically smothering herself in 'adult magic' so that her underage magic is masked, thus avoiding detection.**

**That's basically my worldbuilding process for this fic, take an upper limit and lower limit from canon and fill up the middle, don't really have to do this but I want a challenge. Which is why I'm not going to be doing those magical oath things cause I personally feel that those are outside the self-imposed limits. The only binding-to-life things in canon is the Unbreakable Vow which requires three parties (and is probably limited in usage or they would have been abused in courtrooms all over) and the Goblet of Fire which involves a powerful magical object. With those as limits, magical oaths ain't happening :( and those things create too many plot holes.**


	21. Chapter 21 - Wetworks

**AN: I got bored one day and decided to make a cover image, so there you go. A pain to create using a mouse. Also, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter :). As always, reviews help.**

* * *

Chapter 21 - Wetworks

A lanky man sat on the benches inside Heathrow Airport, awaiting his partner. He would kill for some elf-made coffee, but for now the cheap cup of espresso he bought from some Muggle store would do. His seedy eyes shifted through the crowds exiting from the arrival terminal, trying to pick out a particular face.

He checked the time, six o'clock, the sun was setting in the distance. Maybe his partner overdid the glamour charms, disrupting the finicky computers used in the immigration checkpoints due to the excess magic.

_Nevermind, speak of the devil and he shall appear._

Dressed in loose slacks and a rumpled button up shirt, his partner left the arrival terminal with a duffel bag slung on his shoulders, looking disgruntled. Picking up his cup of espresso and the one he bought for his partner, he made his way over.

"_Pavel. Good to see you_!" he grinned widely, conversing in Russian while handing his partner a cup of espresso who accepted it gratefully. "_I almost thought you missed the flight._"

"_Not a chance_," his partner, Pavel, replied before sipping a dose of caffeine and grumbling something about jetlag. "_You have the transportation arranged_?"

"_Of course,_" the lanky man nodded, taking out his wallet and handing Pavel some loose change.

Pavel took the change and slotted them into the nearest payphone, keeping a particularly dirty one in his pocket. He punched in some numbers before putting the handset against his ears.

"_Hmmm? Pavel... Yes... I already kept the milk... Yes... I just reached Britain... Yes. Goodbye_."

Pavel hung up the phone, turning to the lanky man.

"_Alright Lev, let's go_," said Pavel leaving the airport.

"_Was it clean_?" the lanky man, Lev, asked.

"_As freshly fallen snow_," Pavel nodded, draining the last of the espresso and tossing it in a nearby dustbin. "_As far as the British Wizarding Ministry knows, we don't exist here_."

"_Good to know_," said Lev checking his watch. "_Ten seconds to portkey jump, runic distortion is active._"

Both men cast their Notice-Me-Not Charms simultaneously and surreptitiously. For ten seconds, nobody paid attention to them and in ten seconds, they were gone.

**XXXXX**

"_So these are the men_?" Bagrationi looked over the folders of two Wizengamot members. He was seated in his office in St Petersburg, the centre of office for the White bloc.

The man in midnight blue Russian Auror robes and black mask nodded sharply. Bagrationi looked back at the folder, Stamford Jones and Matt Edgley, two Wizengamot members who are reported to be staunchly opposed any dealings with Russia. Two men whose time are short. Once more, Bagrationi was thankful that the proposals of bilateral relations between Russia and Britain were done in isolated and confidential environments. Each of the pawns were under the assumption that it was an unintentional topic brought up during conversation, no hint of such proposal would ever reach public ears.

Jones and Edgley, they had the capital to galvanise an opposition against Russian involvement, they had to go. And the time was now, his liaison in Britain demanded that he acted fast in order to provide more time to work with.

"_Sergei?_" Bagrationi asked the Auror.

_"Green light."_

_"Grey?"_

_"Green light."_

_"Leo?"_

_"In process like you, sir."_

_"Konstantin?"_

_"Green light."_

_"Vasily?"_

_"Green light."_

Bagrationi chuckled, this was one of the rare moments where everyone in what was unofficially dubbed the 'privy council' were in agreement, as least the major players were. Then again, a chance to gorge in one of Europe's largest wizarding economy that happens to be corrupt, nobody here was passing out on that.

"_Very well_," Bagrationi hummed, pouring himself a glass of wine. "_Green light_."

**XXXXX**

Everyone was in position, each of them dressed differently in dark colours. The less the uniformity of their apparel, the more they seemed like a ragtag group of terrorists and criminals.

Pavel inspected his equipment with a scowl, they were acceptable but not in the condition he really wanted. Lev, on the other hand, simply slapped on his equipment without concern. Pavel and to admit, he was sometimes envious of his partner's carefree attitude.

Looking around him, it was easy to discern who were Spooks and who weren't. The ones who opted to go without Muggle firearms and instead looked at the weapons with looks of distrust were not Spooks. The leader of their group stood up and called for attention.

"_Everyone listen up_," the man barked. "_Remember your targets and stick only to your targets. Avoid any other casualties at all cost. However, the destruction of property is allowed and very much encouraged. We want the British to think we are dangerous but not lethal, with each person we kill, their Wizengamot gains more incentive to improve their Auror Corps and Hit Wizard forces. It's a balancing act I'm sure your superiors emphasised_."

"_Who the fuck put him in charge_?" Lev asked beside him, looking at the leader with a confused expression. "_If I remember, that cunt is an informant, not a combat specialist_."

"_Keep to your teams and make sure nobody here gets caught. If you happen to have the misfortune of being cornered, do all of us a favour and kill yourself._"

"_I heard the Whites are in charge of this show_," Pavel explained. "_That man is the cousin of someone high up there_."

"_If anyone of you see your teammates about to be caught, do us all a favour and kill him_."

"_Ah... nepotism, got it_." Lev drawled in understanding, turning his attention back to his AK-47.

"_Feels weird_," Pavel scowled. "_Two of us here are under Sergei, as is those two there. I am pretty sure that circle of seven people are with the Whites. Those two there are definitely under Leo's thumb. And those two are probably with Grey_."

"_And also, be reminded that this is not an excuse to go around killing one another, just stick to the plan and be adaptive if need be_."

"_Damn surprised there isn't any backstabbing yet_," Lev chuckled.

"_Yet._"

_"Everyone, prepare to move on the whistle."_

"_Mmm... the perks of a mutually beneficial operation_," Lev hummed, sniffing the air. "_It smells delightfully refreshing. You know, a little bird told me that one of the Greyhound's Demons will probably be watching this._"

Pavel snorted.

"_What_?" said Lev challengingly. "_You don't think that Grey and his hound would use child soldiers_?"

"_They would_," Pavel snorted once more. "_Everyone would, everyone does, they are more malleable, adaptive and you don't need to pay them. But the stories revolving Greyhound's Demons are definitely exaggerated. I'll draw the line at them being the best underaged Spooks you can ever find but that's all._"

"Really?"

"_Take the Shanghai job of spring 1993,_" Pavel explained. "_They said that it only took two of them to sneak pass the wards at the Golden Tiger Complex. Please, with the ward systems used there, on top of a skilled ward-breaker, you need at least a team of Spooks like us with various equipment to keep track of the frequent magical shifts in the Triple-Rotational ward scheme. And top of observing constantly changing magic, they need to crack the wards in tandem with the shift which requires an insane level of teamwork. Just how do you expect two children to do that_?"

A sharp screech of a whistle filled the air, giving everyone the cue to begin. Cracks of apparition filled the place as the room they were in began to empty out one by one. Pavel and Lev landed on soft ground and the latter took point, bringing his rifle to bear. Pavel looked around and saw the others appearing near them with cracking sounds of their own.

Despite it being night, Pavel could pick out the silhouettes of two pairs in the distance erecting Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards. Five minutes for the wards to be properly set up and they began closing in on their target. St Helensworth was a primarily magical neighbourhood that housed a decently sized magical community, the rows of identical houses made it easy for their planning. After all, the blueprints were the same for each house, including their target's. The various shops scattered about made it easy to cause collateral damage without risking the deaths of any civilians.

Most of them scoured the area for any threats while the few Spooks among them worked to tear down the wards of their target's house. Traditional methods using a wand was efficient and precise, but took too much time. Should the wards alert their target to intruders before the wards were broken, things would get more messy. Instead, they used a method that could deliver raw power in an instant without the slow channelling of magic used in traditional ward breaking.

"_That's the charges set up? Everyone at a safe distance?_" Lev asked one of the Spooks, fiddling with the detonator in his hands. The Spook nodded before moving back to his position. "_Remember Pavel, their fireplace is at the second window from the left, flushed against the right wall_."

Pavel nodded silently, keeping his eyes on this window. Lev flicked off the safety of his detonator and pulled the trigger. Seven packs of rune-altered high-explosive charges equally distributed around the wards, just outside the ward line, exploded in tandem. The wards broke immediately and Pavel instantly fired two spells in quick succession, a Reductor Curse broke the window open and the follow up Blasting Curse reduced the fireplace into a plume of smoke and rubble, Floo connection severed.

Around him similar occurrences popped up around him, gouts of dust erupting from nearby wizarding homes. The village woke up from the noise as windows grew bright with light and screams rose in the air. From the second floor of their target's house a silver racoon sprang from the window and scurried away into the air.

"_Magical Law Enforcement Patrols or Aurors_?" Lev asked as he watched the patronus escape. Sadly, there was no counter spell to the Patronus Charm. "_Who do you think they will send_?"

"_Hopefully the former_," Pavel muttered, vaulting over the broken window. "_Homenum Revelio_."

Four presence detected. Their target, his wife and probably two children, all upstairs.

"_Upstairs_," Pavel grunted. Lev stacked up behind him, as did two other Spooks. He led the group, preemptively casting a Shield Charm in the event of an ambush. As he maintained the shields, Lev backed him up with his Kalashnikov, the two others brought up their wands to bear.

"_I need another Homenum Revelio_," said Pavel as they reached the second floor. The Spook at the rear complied and Pavel felt the familiar swooping sensation.

"_Left corridor_," the Spook declared. "_I'd wager the last room on the right side_."

"_Lev_," Pavel prompted.

"_Green Two to Green Five, do you read me_?" Lev took one hand away from his rifle to activate the enchanted necklaces they were issued.

"_Green Two, I hear you_," came the reply

"_Eyes on target's house. Second floor, east side, window on your left. See anything_?"

"_Checking... No_."

"_Noted, keep eyes on that window. We'll be entering soon. Feel free to shoot if the target shows himself_."

"_Understood_."

Lev nudged Pavel and the group went down the corridor, stopping before the last room.

"_Open the door_," Pavel ordered and the rear man took up the job once more, swishing his wand at the door. The door rattled loudly but did not open, it was warded.

"Whoever is out there, stop!" an English voice came from the room. "Do you know who you are attacking? I am Stamford Jones of the Wizengamot and I will personally see to it that you end up in Azkaban if you refuse to cease this nonsense at once."

"_Force it open_."

The blue jet of a Reductor Curse soared pass Pavel's shoulder, rendering the door into dust. Pavel edged forward and his Shield Charm immediately absorbed a Stunning Spell. Then, he heard the shattering of the glass in the room, followed by the soft thump of a body dropping and a feminine shriek of panic.

"_Green Five to Green Two, target is down_."

Pavel entered the room, which appeared to be the master bedroom of the house. Lying on the floor was a middle-aged man with a wand still in his hand, a pool of blood slowly forming under him. In the corner was a woman with two young boys, all huddled together in their sleepwear. The two children were wailing at the top of their lungs.

"P-p-please..." the woman stammered, staring at the intruders with fear in her eyes. "Don't kill us."

"_Bag them_."

The woman screamed in terror as she found herself at the end of several wands. In a brilliant flash of white light, the woman and her children turned into guinea pigs. One of the Spooks behind Pavel grabbed the transfigured people and threw them into a burlap bag.

"_Green Two to Siren,_" said Lev to his necklace. "_Target is killed. We've got the family_."

_"Noted. Blue team, I want the empty buildings burnt down as soon as possible."_

_"Red Two to all teams, the British just responded. I got eyes on three contacts."_

"_Aurors or the MLEP_?" one voice asked.

"_Two in MLEP uniforms, one in the British Auror khaki_."

"_Alright, everyone hurry up, especially Blue team_," the voice recognised as Siren said. "_Put up a show of resistance and then everyone evacuate the place._"

When the Spook stowed the burlap bag containing the transfigured people into his backpack, the group proceeded to exit the building, moving to leave the area still confined under the Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards. A disturbance came from the radio set on Pavel's belt, a voice crackled. Everyone around him strained to listen to the message which was difficult with all the magic disrupting the reception. Pavel grimaced, radio sets were only held by Spooks, having them report something did not bode well.

"_Lizard to Spooks_," the distorted voice spoke, Pavel recognised the callsign as the spotter outside the area who had possession of thermal optics. No wonder a radio set was used, magical communication would disrupt the sensitive Muggle technology. "_We have distorted thermal contacts around the place. Three groups of six under suspected concealment spells. Taking Point Alpha as reference, they are at bearings one o'clock, five o'clock and nine o'clock. Just outside our wards. Suspected Auror or Hit Wizard teams._"

"_What do you expect_?" Lev mused. "_You apparate over to see a village on fire. Of course the first responders are going to call in the Aurors_."

"_Blue One to Siren_," someone relayed the information via enchanted necklace to the leader of the operation who clearly did not have a radio set with him. "_We have suspected teams of Aurors and Hit Wizards closing in. Estimated as three teams of six. Coming in from north-northeast, south-southeast and west._"

"_Shit_," Siren cursed. "_Blue One, grab some men and form a rearguard while the rest of us evacuate, make sure they are competent, I don't want anyone captured. Draw them away from the east, we are evacuating from there_."

"_Roger_."

Once more the radio set crackled to life.

"_Alright, Blue One here. I want Green One, Two and Five with me. Blue Three will be coming too. The rest of Green team, get out with the goods. Since there's completely no Spooks in Red team, we'll just leave them be. Head over to the enemy squad on the west. Conceal yourselves and encircle them, keep out of Wand Range One, switch to firearms. Someone relay the necessary information to Siren_."

Rushing out of the door and onto the streets, Pavel and Lev ran towards the western end of the village, casting concealment spells on them as they ran. The village was lit up by the fires raging through various buildings, illuminating the panicking wizards and witches who were trying to escape. To Pavel's surprise, he had yet to spot a dead body, it appeared that everyone did listen to the order of preventing unnecessary casualties.

"_Green One to Blue One_," said Pavel. "_What's the plan_?"

"_Siren says to avoid fatalities at all costs but I'm calling bullshit on that. We take out just a few Aurors and the British will have a bigger incentive to invite us in. So we draw attraction by having Blue Three pretend to decimate half a squad of Aurors with one curse. They'll think we have a top rate fighter here and hopefully the other two Auror teams will come over to aid them. Draws attention away from the east as Siren requested_."

"_By pretend to decimate, you mean..._" Lev began to ask.

"_Yes, that_."

"_You think the British will fall for that_?" Lev asked Pavel as they barged through another house, exiting via the back door.

"_Only one way to find out_," Pavel muttered.

Taking a glance to their right, they could see flashes of spellfire traded between the Aurors and their own men. Entering another building and climbing onto the second floor, Pavel managed to get a clear view of the ongoing duel. Blue Three was holding his ground well, taking cover behind various buildings and firing pot shots. Six Aurors stood opposite him, three on the front holding Shield Charms and three on the rear bringing to bear a combination of transfigured wolves, Stunning Spells and a purple gas spell that Pavel can only assume to be meant for incapacitation.

Pavel gauged the distance to the fight, two hundred metres, well outside of Wand Range One. Stowing his wand, Pavel reached into his bag and pulled out a standard issue SVD-63 Dragunov with supporting runes, not his preferred choice of firearms but it would do the job. Beside him, Lev levelled his Kalashnikov.

_"You plan on hitting a two hundred metres target with an AK?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Blue One, Green One and Two are in position."_

"_Green Five as well_," another voice crackled in the radio set.

They were behind the Aurors, and they had their sights lined up on the three Aurors holding up the Shield Charms. Since the Aurors had were focused on Blue Three who was weaving around burning buildings, their rear was completely exposed. All they waited for now was Blue One's command.

"_Roger. Blue Three start swinging. Green One, Two and Five, wait for my mark... hold... hold... now_."

In Pavel's crosshairs, he could make out Blue Three turning about to face the Aurors, waving his wand in intricate movements before jabbing at the Aurors. It was the same exact moment the command to shoot was given. A swift kickback of the rifle's recoil and three Aurors in British khaki went collapsing onto the street in synchrony, send spurts of crimson fluid into the air. Immediately, the remaining Aurors began screaming and ducking for cover from Blue Three.

**XXXXX**

"Harold, Owen, start moving to the sides," the lead Auror yelled, transfiguring more nearby rubble into wolves. "We need to box him in, that slimy cunt just keeps dodging and running. The rest of you, keep the shields up, those curses he's firing are very lethal."

Grunts of acknowledgement echoed all around him as they moved to get an attempt in apprehending the suspect. The lead Auror squinted his eyes, trying to get a bead on the suspect whose figure was hidden by the blinding glow of the burning buildings.

It was very unpleasant waking up in the middle of the night to be activated for reinforcements. Sure, it was his shift to be on the standby teams, but after the Death Eater scares during the Quidditch World Cup and recently over Triwizard Tournament fiasco, he had thought that this summer would be a peaceful one. But just a few days after the start of summer, he got called here to witness a burning village and various people running about causing mayhem.

Furthermore, he had no idea who these people were. His first guess was the same rabble of pardoned Death Eaters from the Quidditch World Cup, but the lack of cohesiveness made him consider otherwise, they were all dressed like slobs rather than the Death Eater regalia. On top of that, there was yet to be any Dark Marks flaring in the sky. The biggest clue he had were the language they were speaking, it sounded Eastern European.

Suddenly, the man they were pursing lashed out, swinging from the corner he was hiding behind. He waved his wand in a complex fashion, clearing in the process of casting a high level spell.

"Watch out, he's-"

The next words died at his lips as the three Aurors in front of him toppled, their necks jerking aside as blood burst from the side of their heads. His eyes widened in shock, watching the black-clothed suspect finish a jabbing motion of the wand, this was no normal curse.

"TAKE COVER!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, diving behind a tree and scrambling on all fours to the cover of a nearby building. "That's a very dark curse! Shield Charms are useless!"

"Bloody hell!" the junior Auror hiding on the opposite side of the street cursed. "What the hell do we do now!?"

"We need some FUCKING REINFORCEMENTS!" the lead Auror yelled. "We've got a top-rate dark wizard here among this group! Get the other two teams over here or we are in deep trouble! Owen, try to keep him suppressed, but do NOT expose yourself! We have no idea what curse we're dealing with!"

The junior Auror nodded swiftly before sending a sparrow patronus flying through the streets. The lead Auror, took a peek at the suspect who was now running away further into the burning buildings. He cursed loudly, giving chase risked certain death, but stay here gave the suspect a chance to escape.

One thing he certainly knew was that come tomorrow, the _Daily Prophet_ was going to have a field day, because some terrorist group that was likely foreign wreaked havoc in the middle of a wizarding village.

**XXXXX**

"_Played them like a fiddle_," Lev chuckled as they exited the building, breaking into a jog towards the end of the Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards. "_Who honestly believes that there's a lethal curse that can break through a Shield Charm and hit three targets at the same time_?"

"_So far, about half of the people we have ever played this on_."

"_Green One, Two, Five. You can start you own exfiltration_," Blue One ordered. "_The other Auror teams just got alerted, they moving towards us. East is clear for the rest to evacuate_."

"_What about Blue Three_?" Lev asked.

"_Don't really care_," Pavel replied, glancing back to make sure they were not being followed. "_From what I have heard, that man can escape just fine on his own._"

After a five minute jog, the two of them finally exited the ward lines and with a crack, they vanished into the night.

**XXXXX**

_Daily Prophet_

_Terror in St Helensworth!_

_Just last night, the quaint wizarding community of St Helensworth came under attack by a mysterious group. The DMLE received a call on 11:26 pm from resident Wizengamot member Stamford Jones. According to the DMLE, Jones was forced to use a Patronus Charm to send the alert._

_When the first responders from the DMLE went to investigate, they found Apparition into St Helensworth blocked by wards and that movement by Floo was disconnected as well. In the end, they were forced to apparate as close to the village as possible only to find it in flames._

_The first responders called for Auror backup immediately and a fight ensued between the Aurors and the mysterious group. Sadly, all members of the mysterious group was able to escape, leaving behind three dead Aurors as a result of the fight._

_In addition to the dead Aurors, the very person who called the DMLE met his demise at the hands of the mysterious group. Stamford Jones was confirmed to be deceased by Ministry officials on-site at 02:04 am. Furthermore, his wife and two children are found to be missing after the attack._

_Thankfully, despite a big portion of the village ending up in flames, there was no further loss of lives. However, the destruction of property is bound to send St Helensworth into tough times._

_Head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones has vowed to ensure that the missing family members of Stamford Jones be retrieved and that the mysterious group would face justice for their crimes._

_Continued on page 4_

**XXXXX**

_Daily Prophet_

_Matt Edgley dies from Stroke_

_This reporter has the unfortunate role of informing the public that Wizengamot member Matt Edgley has passed away quietly last night. His passing comes shortly after the attack on St Helensworth where fellow Wizengamot member Stamford Jones was murdered by a mysterious group._

_His family members have attributed the stress and grief from the death of Stamford Jones as contributing factors to Matt Edgley's stroke. However, healers from St Mungo's mentioned that Matt Edgley have already passed the life expectancy of the average wizard and that his passing should be no surprise._

_"The two of them has always been close," said Mrs. Edgley. "My husband was Stamford's mentor in the Wizengamot and clearly saw him as a son of sorts. His murder must have hit him hard."_

_Matt Edgley will forever be remembered as a maverick of the Wizengamot who staunchly supported Squib rights and the self-sufficiency of Wizarding Britain._

_Life of Matt Edgley on page 2_

**XXXXX**

"I will not be negotiating with _terrorists_," a fist slammed down on the wooden table, send the Aurors flinching. Amelia Bones scanned through the letter once more, hissing in blind fury. "Just _who_ do these scums think they are?"

"It doesn't matter who they think they are," Rufus Scrimgeour growled. "They have clearly overstepped the bounds, and they have thus far managed to evade our Aurors. They are dangerous."

"Clearly, the ICW should step in for this," a senior Auror at the table suggested. "After all, upon reviewing the memories we have confirmed that this terrorist group is definitely foreign, and based on their language probably Russian."

"Not anymore," Bones rubbed the bridge of her nose. "International cooperation on this scale no longer exists. After the war on Grindelwald, some people in the ICW saw fit to scale down international law enforcement. It's the same reason we have an Auror team in Nepal tracking down Sirius Black rather than relying on the Nepalese Aurors."

"Speaking of Black," said Scrimgeour. "Shacklebolt, does this terrorist group have any connections with Black?"

"As far as our information goes, no," the dark-skinned Auror replied. "This group seems to be rather independent."

"Then why are they here?" someone asked furiously.

"Sake of money apparently," said Bones, looking down at the letter once more. A thirty thousand galleon ransom for the family of Stamford Jones.

"If it was just a kidnapping, why burn down a quarter of St Helensworth?" a question rose from the table. "You don't earn from that."

"It could be because they simply took joy in destruction of property," said Scrimgeour. "Or possibly, if they intend on staying here for the long term, it a message to the public if they ever start collecting 'protection money'."

"Madam Bones," a young Auror peeked into the room. "There's someone calling for you, they are starting a Wizengamot session in ten minutes."

"Understood, thank you for telling me Tonks," Bones sighed. "We'll continue this tomorrow, in the meantime, ensure that the Auror response forces are in top shape and intelligence gathering is of utmost importance. We need to know what we are dealing with."

Leaving the DMLE office and into the Wizengamot section of the Ministry, Bones wondered what was in store for this session of the Wizengamot. Frankly, she would rather be back in her office coordinating the department for this new crisis. Wading through the quagmire that was bureaucracy was something she would rather avoid, nothing came good from it.

As she entered the Wizengamot chambers and took her seat, she looked at the person on the podium and grimaced. Lucius Malfoy bringing matters to the Wizengamot never bode well to her. She could only hope that this time, it was not going to end up as a big pain. Settling into her seat, she took note of those present, the full bulk of Malfoy's camp was present, there was likely a bill about to be passed. Cornelius Fudge was there too, looking exceedingly pleased with himself, that also seldom bode well to her.

Dumbledore entered the chamber and took his seat as the Chief Warlock, and from the looks Fudge and his undersecretary Umbridge was giving him, Bones knew that it was a matter of time before Dumbledore was forced out of the position. A bang of the gavel and the chamber fell silent with anticipation. The standard pleasantries were passed along and the session began.

"My fellow esteemed witches and wizards," Lucius Malfoy began. "The recent attack on St Helensworth has left a tragic mark on our current era of peace. Naturally, we will not stand for this wanton act of aggression. These fiends must be met with justice."

Waves of agreement coursed through the chamber from all factions of the Wizengamot. Bones frowned, trying to discern the man's intentions. This level of vehemence was rare for Lucius Malfoy, something seemed suspicious to her.

"The DMLE has done a remarkable job in dealing with threats to our society, but they will need more help if these scoundrels are to be punished. They have confirmed that this group of people are foreign and likely Russian. Upon contacting the Russian Ministry, they have revealed the nature of this group."

Whispering broke out across the Wizengamot at the news, Bones mulled over the information. She herself had been planning on contacting various foreign Ministries in order to find some information, but it had appeared that Malfoy had beaten her to it. At least, she was saved the effort of going through the various hoops one needed to take just to contact the Russian Ministry.

Then again, this was Lucius Malfoy bringing the news, she was going to take his words with a pinch of salt. Steeling herself for the worse, she listened on.

"It has appeared that a criminal syndicate by the name of Black Mark was responsible for the attack on St Helensworth. They have begun to lose influence in Russia due to the efforts of the Russian Aurors and have started to escape Russia, ending up in our shores as a result. Information from the Russian Ministry revealed these criminal to specialise in ransom, extortion and the black market trade. Clearly, these fiends intent to sully our country with their crimes."

More conversations broke out at his words and Bones herself was intrigued. Should the information be true, it would answer many of the initial questions her department had.

"If these scums came from Russia, then the Russians should deal with it," someone yelled and a good number followed his lead. "Why must _we_ clean up after _their_ mess!?"

"And help from their Aurors was exactly what the Russian Ministry offered," Lucius carried on without missing a beat, sending the chamber into stunned silence. Wizarding Russia has always had an isolationist policy, both due to their unwillingness to open up and many countries boycotting them. "The Russian Ministry understands this very injustice you have mentioned Mr Blight and they have agreed, for the sake of goodwill between our countries and to ensure that these criminals will never return to their lands, to join forces together in a coordinated effort to root out these criminals."

Once more the Wizengamot chamber fell into a chattering that grew louder with each passing second. A cannon-like thunderclap from Dumbledore's wand and silence reigned once more. Dumbledore calmly motioned for Lucius to continue.

"With this generosity from the Russians offered, it would do us no good to turn it down. These documents here-" Lucius waved a folder of parchment, "-contains various information on the Black Mark kindly offered to us by the Russian Aurors as well as a proposal for an Anglo-Russian bilateral agreement. This will begin the foundations for joint operations between both countries' Magical Law Enforcement in dealing with common threats as well as the much needed warming of diplomatic relations between two countries."

All ears were on Lucius as each member of the Wizengamot eagerly awaited his words. Never before in recent decades has Wizarding Russia reached out to other countries.

"As time changes, so do people, so do countries, we cannot afford to be held back by bad history and petty circumstances. The current century is coming to a close, the current millennia is coming to a close. It is high time we begin ushering forth a new era for our future generations. And I say that this new era be one of international cooperation. Cooperation, trade and exchange of cultures will only bring benefit to Wizarding Britain. If Russia has offered a warm hand, I say we take it."

Applause reverberated loudly across the chambers as Lucius Malfoy received a standing ovation from many of the Wizengamot members. Bones had to admit that she was impressed, his words certainly galvanised the crowd. And if his words were true, she saw little in denying Russian aid – or intervention in the eyes of some. If the Russian Aurors were successful in driving out this Black Mark, then their aid with increase the likelihood of success in driving them out from Britain as well.

**XXXXX**

_Daily Prophet_

_Historic agreement with Russia and the beginning of a new era_

_'I say that this new era be one of international cooperation'. This was the highlight of Lucius Malfoy's speech in a recent Wizengamot session. And indeed the seeds have been sown._

_In response to the recent attack in St Helensworth, the British and Russian Ministries have agreed on a joint operation between their Magical Law Enforcement sectors to tackle the group responsible for the attack on St Helensworth, a group that has been revealed to be a criminal syndicate originating from Russia._

_In the following weeks, there will be an expected arrival of Russian Aurors and supporting staff as well as dignitaries from the Russian Ministry to conclude the new Anglo-Russian bilateral agreement, dubbed as the St Helensworth Agreement. It can also be expected that this agreement be further expanded to include other terms such as trade and immigration policies._

_Continued on page 2_

_Recap on attack on St Helensworth on page 7_

**XXXXX**

A lanky man sat on the benches inside the newly established Russian embassy slash headquarters in London, awaiting his partner. He took a whiff of the elf-made coffee in his hands, relishing the fragrance. His seedy eyes shifted through the various freshly assigned staff entering the office, trying to pick out a particular face.

He checked the time, six o'clock, the sun was setting in the distance. Maybe his partner got missed the portkey in their operations base.

_Nevermind, speak of the devil and he shall appear._

Dressed in the standard midnight blue that every Russian Auror donned, his partner entered the office with a standard issue black mask all Russian Aurors received in hand, looking disgruntled. Picking up his cup of elf-made coffee and the one he got for his partner, he made his way over.

"_Pavel. Good to see you_!" he grinned widely, conversing in Russian while handing his partner a cup of coffee who accepted it gratefully. "_I almost thought you missed the portkey_."

"_Not a chance_," his partner, Pavel, replied before sipping a dose of caffeine and grumbling something about Stamford Jones' family. "_Is the transportation arranged_?"

"_Of course_," the lanky man nodded, taking out a small bag of Floo powder and handing it to Pavel. "_Floo to the British Ministry just got set up yesterday_."

Pavel grabbed handful of green powder and tossed it into the fireplace, watching the fire turn green. He took a step into the green flames.

"Ministry of Magic."

The lanky man watched as his partner spin away before tossing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and doing the same. Arriving at the entrance of the British Ministry, he placed his mask on and fell in place beside Pavel.

"_Alright Lev, let's go_," said Pavel, putting on his own Auror mask and heading into the Ministry.

"_Was it clean_?" the lanky man, Lev, asked.

"_As freshly fallen snow_," Pavel nodded, draining the last of the elf-made coffee and tossing it in a nearby dustbin. "_As far as the British Wizarding Ministry knows, we just arrived two days ago via international portkey_."

"_Good to know_," said Lev checking his watch. "_Ten minutes to the meeting with the press and the British Aurors. Let's catch those criminals responsible for St Helensworth, yeah_?"

Pavel snorted softly, making his way to the conference room where Amelia Bones and her Russian counterpart were placating the hungry reporters, two rows of British khaki and Russian blue standing at attention behind them with more coming in.

The scapegoat was set. Any nefarious activities and wetworks that occurred within British soil could now be blamed on the nonexistent Black Mark syndicate if they were ever discovered. All players in Russia could now begin their game of power and control. Both Pavel and Lev could not care less, they were simply doing their jobs.


	22. Chapter 22 - Never Liked Aristocracy

**AN: Time to discuss something that has been asked for: pairings :O.**

**And the solution is democracy of sorts, since they don't affect the plot. When does pairing actually start? Sixth year, big yikes there (At least for Anya it is). But I will begin the polls now because I will be using fifth year to set up the... atmosphere? Chemistry? I don't know xD. Also, first time doing a poll (since this is my first fic anyways), so do let me know if I messed up somewhere in setting it up or if the polls don't even show. And I will be letting the polls run to include newcomers, all the way to... maybe sixth year? So if you are reading this late, you can still try to vote. I'll probably still do a separate final poll as this one is just to determine the direction of character interaction I should take.**

**Simply put, only Anya's pairing will be the one given a proper dedicated word count because it does kind of a bigger impact than others and she's the main character. For the others, it's kind of a whatever, which is why I was heavily considering sticking to canon because I don't have to put the time to craft out relationships that don't affect the plot much. But if the majority vote for other character's pairings is non-canon, then I will slip in a few pairing parts here and there but don't expect much, unless I somehow change my mind. And ****if the majority vote for other character's pairings is canon, then I'm saved the effort.**

**So... I'll put the preview options here.**

**For Anya: Its Anya/Jen, Anya/Blaise, Anya/Draco. ****On the 'difficult to write' scale, I peg them all as equal**

**For Harry: Its Harry/Ginny, Harry/Astoria, Harry/Hermione. Ginny being canon saves me the brain cells and lets me focus on the main plot. Astoria is _much, much_ easier to write than Hermione for this fic because Astoria will be featured much more, providing more breathing space, so please take that into consideration.**

**No twincest sadly, not because I'm against them but it makes the later chapters harder to write. Maybe another time.**

**For Astoria: Its Astoria/Harry, Astoria/Draco. On the 'difficult to write' scale, I peg them as equal because there are good opportunities with Draco as well, it's one of the canon pairings I personally find quite good.**

**For Hermione: Its Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Ron, Hermione/Jen, Hermione/Blaise. Ron (if that ever gets chosen cause I know the fanfic community too well on this xD) being canon means I don't even have to waste time thinking about pairing subplots and can get into the main stuff. Harry is already discussed above. Blaise will be a bit harder to write than Jen because Blaise does not get featured as much.**

**You should be given four votes, one for each, so let know if I mess that up.**

**That's probably all the important ones, the rest will be auto-filled if I even mention them. Do note that results of Anya and Harry takes priority over Astoria and Hermione. If you don't care about pairings and just want the plot and intrigue, just pick the canon ones because canon pairing means I would not even bother much.**

**Also, please take the side-notes on pairings I have written into big consideration. I'll try my best but shoehorning in your favourite pairing despite me declaring it as being hard to do may deliver weaker writing, but I will still try to deliver my best.**

**And for those who really wonder why Draco is even considered, put the following on a Caesar Cipher (shift of 3) because I don't know how much of a spoiler this is and unlike sites like Reddit, theres no spoiler covering function. ****gudfr zloo sodb d eljjhu sduw dv wkh fkdswhu jrhv rq pxfk olnh krz bhdu vla kdg gudfr lqyroyhg lq pdmru sorw**

* * *

Chapter 22 - Never Liked Aristocracy

"Astoria, it's almost three, you promised to meet up with Ella and Stacy for tea," a voice sailed up from downstairs. Astoria closed the book she had been engrossed in, placing it back on the shelf it belonged to. Taking a long look at the mirror, she deemed herself presentable before leaving her room and strolling down the stairs at a leisurely pace.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, her mother stood there awaiting her. Isabel Greengrass inspected her daughter's bearings before giving an approving nod, opening her arms to take Astoria into a light yet firm hug.

"Have fun now Astoria," said Isabel, giving Astoria a pat as the girl went to the fireplace, sipping her hand in the Floo jar and fishing out a handful of green powder. A whirlwind ride of spinning green later and Astoria stepped out of another fireplace.

"Astoria!" a cheery voice called to her. The owner of the voice, a fellow second-year Slytherin, waved enthusiastically at her. Astoria returned the greeting with the same enthusiasm, pulling the other girl into a tight embrace.

"Ella, good to see you. Is Stacy here already?"

"Yes, we were waiting for you, I've already made tea."

Ella promptly dragged Astoria over to the patio of her manor where the third girl, Stacy, was. More pleasantries were exchanged and the girls sat down, with Ella offering tea to her friends.

"So, how's your summer so far?" Ella asked Astoria, taking a sip.

"Boring," Astoria smiled winningly. "Nothing but homework. My parents aren't taking me and Daphne out overseas for the holidays, so I'm just stuck in the manor."

"That's too bad," Stacy giggled from the side. "My mom and dad are taking me out to Italy next week."

There were squeals of excitement and soon they were discussing the latest fashion trends that come out from Italy. Slowly, the talk turned into one of Astoria's hated topics: politics. She should have expected it, they were all Slytherins which have always been associated with a penchants for politics. A look at the top politicians in the Ministry and checking their old Hogwarts records, one would easily notice the high proportion of ex-Slytherins. Personally, Astoria found it stifling.

"So you're saying that Marie now has dirt on Florence?" Ella asked shrewdly.

"Yes," Stacy nodded. "That means a considerable drop in the hierarchy, and she just lost her shot at becoming prefect."

"Speaking of Florence, have you heard the new bill her father is trying to push through in the Wizengamot?"

Astoria took a particularly large gulp of tea to drown her grimace and impending groan. School politics was bad enough, actual politics was worse. Once more, she was very glad she was the younger sibling, no seats in the Wizengamot to take over and pull hairs for. She would leave that sickening responsibility for Daphne to settle, Merlin knows her older sister enjoys her fair share of political scheming.

When it was time to go home, Astoria could not be more glad to leave. Upon reaching home, she went back to her room, going up the flight of stairs two steps at a time. As Astoria opened the door to her bedroom, she was an owl perched on the windowsill, looking at her and giving a soft hoot.

Astoria went to untie the letter attached to the owl's leg, giving the owl a treat but the owl sat there waiting for her. Curious, she opened the letter and read it, a smile creeping on her as her eyes registered the short sentence.

_I happen to be free tomorrow, meet at Diagon Alley at noon?_

The name of the sender was written in Cyrillic and Astoria knew straight away that this was from Anya, the only girl she knew with a Russian background. Smiling, she wrote a quick yes and tied it to the owl which flew off the moment her reply was secured to its feet. She had wanted to invite Anya over but it was still early into the summer and of course, knowing the mindset of her parents, she had to slowly present Anya as someone of a high enough status to set foot on their manor. However, she decided that she would cross that bridge when she got there, going to bed with a little more excitement than usual.

**XXXXX**

Anya leafed through the folder in her hands, going through the information for the sixth time. Lounging back at her seat in a McDonald's, she kept her eye on the walkway opposite the street. Finishing the last of her drink, she checked the time, two o'clock. Right on schedule, two figures appeared on the street. The Muggles never noticed their sudden appearance, magic always had its way of getting around the Muggles' attention.

Standing up, she quickly left the place and neared the street, increasing the sensitivity of her right eye. She spotted several warning and detection spells coming from the two figures, forcing her to keep a distance, she would not put it past them to have spells that detect nearby magic as well. She watched as the two exchanged several words before one of them handed a parcel to the other. The pair gave each other a quick nod and separated.

Anya kept an eye at the one with the parcel, tailing him from a distance lest she trigger the warning spells. A Notice-Me-Not Charm went up from the person, forcing Anya to focus harder on her quarry to compensate for the effect of the spell. The person turned around a corner and with a crack, disapparated away. Confirming that the warning spells disappeared along with her target, she took a moment to check for anyone watching before casting a Notice-Me-Not Charm on herself and dashing at top speed to where her target was.

Among all forms of rapid magical transportation, Apparition was hardest to detect and follow. Floo could be checked on the network and Portkeys traced from its leftover signature, Apparition on the other hand, had a weak trace that only lasted seconds compared to a portkey's minutes.

Picking up the Apparition signature, Anya prodded it with her wand and decoded it. A look at the resultant numbers on her wrist and an entry into her GPS later, Anya took out a circular object. It looked similar to a pocket watch but with multiple hands and a dull black casing rather than a shiny metallic one. Twisting the knobs at the side until the desired calibrations, she looked at several of the flickering hands and checked her watch, 2:03 pm.

"The limitations of portkeys," Anya sighed to herself.

Two minutes and the hands on the device began to spin out of control, right on schedule. Despite Apparition being the quickest and most convenient of magical transportation, the bulk of the magical population still used portkeys. It can be established beforehand, it was harder to ward against, it worked at longer distances, it could transport many people in one go and it catered to nearly a quarter of the magical population who could not or would not perform Apparition. With that in mind, the Russian operatives were required to create portkeys in British soil. Naturally, they were all unauthorised and in order to prevent detection, nearly all parties had a dedicated team of specialised ward-breakers in position to hack and disrupt the British National Ward Grid at timed intervals, giving the operatives small windows to perform illegal magic without detection.

Portkeys, in the event of being made illegally, are only detected by a National Ward Grid when the charm was cast rather than by activation of portkey. The magical signature generated by casting a Portkey Charm was much more noticeable than the magical signature generated by a portkey activation. One could theoretically detect a portkey by its activation via the line of magic generated from its point of departure to destination, but it would be heavily masked by all the background magic in the environment.

At 2:05 pm, the scheduled disruption for Bristol County occurred, indicated by the wild spinning on the device in Anya's hands. With the confirmation noted, Anya took out a coin from her pockets and cast a Portkey Charm, feeling the familiar sensation of being pulled by the navel. Appearing on a rooftop building, she scoured the area for her quarry, hoping that the two minutes delay was insufficient for her quarry to escape from her watch. Anya scanned the streets, closing her left eye to focus solely on her right. She spotted her target - or rather, the magic radiating from her target as he was now under a strong set of concealment spells - one block down the main road, waiting at a Muggle bus stop.

Anya reached under her jacket and into one of the pouches on her vest, pulling out a wooden block covered in runes. A snap of her fingers to activate it and the block turned into a swiftlet which proceeded to circle high above her target, well out of the range of any warning spells. With her target being tailed, Anya cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and she leapt off the rooftop.

"_Arresto Momentum_."

Anya aimed the spell at herself, descending onto the ground at a much safer speed. Nearing the ground, she sent a Cushioning Charm on the walkway, allowing her to land with only a gentle bend of her knees. Her target boarded the bus which drove off down the street. Dropping her Disillusionment Charm, Anya pointed her wand at a passing motorcyclist.

"_Confundo_."

The motorcyclist pulled the brakes, turning back to Anya and waving her over. Anya made her way to the motorcyclist, swinging over the seats.

"Jane, you needed a lift?" the motorcyclist asked, driving back off into the street.

"Yes I do," Anya replied, pointing at the bus that her target boarded. "Tail that purple bus right there."

"You got it," said the motorcyclist, turning on the signal lights as he veered right to follow the bus.

Eight minutes later and her target alighted, she mentioned for the motorcyclist to go around a corner before dropping her off. A quick Memory Charm and she made her away to her target, relying on the swiftlet still circling in the sky.

Turning around a corner, she saw her target walking into a row of buildings before completely disappearing. Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she checked the lines of magic swirling around the place for irregularities, filtering through the mess of lines as she focused harder on her right eye with each time she ran into a dead end. Finally, with a massive headache creeping up on her, she saw strands of magic that seemed to be there but not, surreptitiously bending space itself.

Fidelius Charm.

Rubbing her right eye, she realised that it was bleeding. Finally acknowledging that throbbing pain, she closed her right eye and took out her GPS, glad that she achieved her primary objective. Although a Fidelius Charm hid a location, it still existed within a physical plane of reality that can be approximated by Muggle means. Taking note of where she last saw her target, Anya circled the area, marking down her coordinates at regular intervals. Soon, she had marked out an estimated location of her target's safehouse. A wave of her wand recalled the swiftlet and she transfigured it back into a wooden block, keeping it back in the pouch it came from.

With her job done, Anya wiped the blood off her eyes and made her way to the nearby train station. The Knight Bus was tempting but with the St Helensworth Agreement now signed, there was likely some operative watching the Knight Bus. Thankfully, her target's final destination was Reading, not too far from her apartment in London compared to Bristol where she was minutes ago.

One train ride and a long walk later, with several more turns around corners under the scrutiny of her eye to make sure she was not being followed, she end up at the apartment building that she first saw during the Fourth Task. Entering the door and passing through the wards she was greeted with Dimitri and Jen having a late lunch, Jen was lying on the sofa with a sandwich in one hand and a book on magical theorems in another, Dimitri was at the small dining table poring over several maps that lay on the wooden surface as he chewed absentmindedly on his rice.

"I take it to be a success judging by your look of tired satisfaction," said Jen, getting up and offering some space to Anya.

"Three out of five targets successfully tailed," Anya replied as she flopped onto the sofa, taking out a notepad filled with coordinates. "One of them under a Fidelius."

"That's a good enough success rate," Jen took the notepad and browsed through it. "I'll pass it along to Aleks."

Grabbing an open can of Coke and draining the last of it - much to Jen's protest - Anya went to her bedroom. She took off her jacket and the concealed ballistic vest underneath, hanging the former on the back of her chair and stowing the latter in the box by her bed.

Lying down on her bed, she tossed and turned before her eyes landed on her table where an assortment of quills, pen, parchment and paper laid. Anya sighed, might as well get another job done, one that would be a lot more relaxing. Taking a seat, she jotted down a quick message to Astoria, tying the scrap of parchment onto an owl and sending it out the window.

Ticking another item off her mental list, Anya went back to her bed, picking up a binded document from the shelf on her. Fluffing up her pillows, she leaned back and opened the document. She was not in the mood to sleep, so she figured that she might as well spend the time productively.

After all, what was that Chinese saying? 活到老,学到老. There was a spell that she really wanted to learn after all.

**XXXXX**

Spinning numbers, crackling magic and runes glowing amok. The silver-haired man stabbed his quill into the inkpot in frustration, running over the voluminous lines of runes once more. A glance at the ticking clock and he knew that he had to leave his workplace soon.

He turned back to his desk, tapping his fingers on a missing portion of the runic matrix as he sunk into deep thought. Once more he stood up and paced the room, trying to take inspiration and guidance from its walls. Four plain, white walls surrounded the room and every single inch of it was filled with Arithmetic equations and workings as well as basic runic component scripts, all written in ink by hand. Some lines were more faded than others, as though the walls were progressively filled.

"Uh... Vergilius... bad timing?" a squat man spoke from the doorway, looking at his incessant pacing with a hint of amusement. He had grown used to the silver-haired man's habits.

"No, its fine, Scott," the silver-haired man, Vergilius, waved off the question. "I was about to go home anyway."

"Too late for that," Scott scoffed. "You probably missed dinner back home and I can only imagine the look of disappointment on your father's face. Let's go for dinner, I've heard of this new place that just opened here in London."

"He holds too many grudges, against too many people," Vergilius stated lazily. "And I would be glad to take up your offer."

He went back to his desk and arranged the stacks of parchment with a wave of his wand, another spell sent them flying over into a lockbox. Another spell caused the circle of runes surrounding the lockbox to hum and flicker with sparks before settling into a soft pink glow.

Vergilius exited the room, methodically locking the seven dead bolts on the door in place before activating a spiral runic script etched on the steel door. Finally he rose the wards back in place, ensuring that the room was secure from intruders.

Scott looked on with nonchalance as he awaited Vergilius, twiddling his thumbs in silent contentment. Once the silver-haired man was done, he followed Scott down a bare black-tiled corridor. Opening the door led into a hallway of multiple doors, the pair took the fourth one on the left.

Entering a circular chamber made of smooth dark marble, Scott motioned for Vergilius to pass before closing the door behind him. Immediately, the chamber began to spin rapidly before coming to a still once more.

Unperturbed, the pair made for the exit, ascending from the pits of secrecy and into the normal world. People in the hallways looked at them with caution but greeted them cordially nonetheless. Vergilius kept on Scott's tail as the shorter man led him to the entrance of the building they were in. In the centre of the entrance hall stood a fountain with golden statues of a wizard, witch, centaur, goblin and house elf, all looking at the former's proud visage.

"Muggle place?" Vergilius remarked coolly as he saw his partner ignore the Floo, heading straight for the official entrance.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Scott retorted, stepping through a stone archway. "Don't tell you're one of those fanatics."

"Hardly," Vergilius replied as they came out from the brick wall of a dead end. "One form of segregation is bad enough for the society as it is, Salazar Slytherin's mythical ramblings does not help the current climate at all."

"Then why the hesitance?"

"Muggle London is hardly the go-to place at the current times," Vergilius sneered at his surroundings, completely unimpressed.

As though on cue, the rumble of an explosion rose from the distance, the pair looked over to see a monstrous, floating, streamlined cylindrical airship in the sky. The grey beast hung above the city ominously as it unleashed its payload from its belly.

"Three years ago, we had hordes of Muggle women screeching for voting rights on the streets and parks of London and now a full-scale war among the Muggles never before seen since the time of Napoleon. You can hardly call this safe, Scott."

"Just loud firecrackers, Vergilius," reassured Scott. "Nothing to fear."

"You definitely have yet to see the damage of said 'firecrackers'," Vergilius snorted. "Thank Merlin for the Statute of Secrecy lest we be dragged into this mess as well."

"Some of the Muggleborns want in on this mess," said Scott as they ambled down the street, Scott paying no need to the frantic Muggles unlike Vergilius who was cautiously eyeing the zeppelin and rushing people. "Sent all sorts of unofficial help to the frontlines of this Muggle war. 'The war to end war' they call it."

"Foolishly optimistic," Vergilius remarked, glancing at the recruitment posters slathered on the brick walls, the still image of a moustached man in uniform pointing firmly at him. "And where in the name of Merlin's pants did you find a new place to eat in this hellhole? Or rather, who would be so insane as to open a new restaurant in Muggle London in the middle of a large-scale Muggle war?"

"War may come but life goes on," Scott hummed as they turned into a street with rows of closed down shops, stopping at a rustic looking restaurant. "Here it is, the Flying Pheasant."

"They do serve pheasant here do they?" Vergilius inquired.

"Wouldn't bring you here if they didn't."

"You know me too well."

Dinner turned out to be an enjoyable affair for Vergilius, good food and decent conversation, one of which was a rarity in his home. Roast pheasant was a favourite of his as well, which was probably the sole reason he allowed himself to set foot into the place. Say what you will about Muggles, but Vergilius found the ability to procure good food in a war for the establishment of a restaurant without magic to be a special kind of magic in of itself. He would not be surprised if the owner of the restaurant was a wizard or witch. Then again, he or she likely was if Scott somehow found this place.

"There were a few new applicants today," Scott mentioned casually as he ate his steak and kidney pie. "Five of them."

"Any one of them good?"

"Four of them."

"And how many will be taken into consideration?" Vergilius asked with a roll of his eyes.

"None."

"Beautiful really, our society," Vergilius sneered. "Four completely competent people apply for jobs where acceptable applicants are hard to come by and all get rejected on the grounds that none of them are of high enough social class."

"Enough of that now, Vergilius," Scott muttered softly, trying to pacify his friend.

"This was the exact reason blood purity is becoming fashionable," Vergilius pressed on. "It does less damage to society, at least that nonsense is inclusive of all the Purebloods and partially the Half-bloods. Here, where the line is drawn between aristocracy and literally everyone else, the entire country goes into stagnation."

"Kind of ironic, given that you yourself are a member of the aristocracy," Scott quipped.

"And that's how you know the current system is truly flawed," Vergilius countered. "When even one who benefits from an unjust system has the hates it for all its problems. Ninety-five percent of the wizarding population suffer for the enjoyment of the top five percent. And what does the top five percent do with the fruits of labour? They squander it for self-entitlement rather than the progress of society."

Scott wisely chose to eat his meal in silence, allowing his friend to continue his tirade. The sooner he released the pent up steam, the better.

"The aristocracy has bent the laws and structures to breed narrow-mindedness and backward thinking, indulging in the illusion of being in the Medieval era. There's little progress in wizarding society, there's little progress in magic itself. The Muggles will surpass us soon enough with the inventions they are churning out, that 'Industrial Revolution' of theirs is woefully underestimated by so many of us. With every passing day the Wizengamot ignores the majority of the population, we lose out. There's so many wizards and witches of non-nobility who have powerful magic and sharp wit but are completely ignored by the Ministry on the account of not being noble. How many people from Hogwarts do we know who are exceptional yet can't find a deserving job on the basis that those are reserved for the aristocracy? Lovegood, Rookwood, Carrow, Flint, Weasley, Kenway and so many more."

"Can't help it," Scott shrugged. "People do not like change when they are comfortable. In this case, the ones comfortable are the aristocracy who control the Wizengamot."

"Honestly speaking, with the Statue of Secrecy implemented centuries ago, you'd think that some things would change. Can't the Ministry and nobility see that placing _Muggle_ nobility above the non-noble Pureblood houses is simply stirring discontent?" Vergilius sighed. "At least before the Statue of Secrecy, Muggle nobility had real power, more political and financial weight than many Purebloods. Now, our nobility is too busy frolicking with their Muggle counterparts – a social class that has long lost power – and we will follow in their footsteps if this goes on. Scott, I bet you. A few decades from now, someone will launch a campaign against the Muggles and the droves of excluded Pureblood houses will follow his banner in attempt to earn the power the Wizarding nobility holds. When that happens, Purebloods will simply replace the nobility and another bout of corruption and laziness will take place."

"We need a fresh slate," Vergilius suggested, leaning back on his chair. "Tear down the current system and put one up that places society in front of a few groups of individuals, knowing what to properly integrate in. If the ruling party wants to push the line of the Statue of Secrecy by mixing around with some Muggles, at least make sure those Muggles are useful. Industrialists, inventors and generals, not the nobility whose power is a hollow shell gilded with fake gold."

"What you need," said Scott exasperatedly. "Is a holiday, you spend too much time cooped up in those rooms. Get out of here, get out of Britain. Go somewhere else for a change, maybe you will have an epiphany."

Vergilius mulled over his friend's words, finishing the rest of his meal. After swallowing his last bite, he sighed.

"Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am," Scott smirked. "I heard France is a good place."

"Not with the Muggle war it isn't."

"Somewhere else then, maybe several destinations."

"Screw it, I'll go to France as well," said Vergilius. "Might as well see the Muggle war up close."

"You should have been in Gryffindor all those years ago," Scott shook his head, finishing his meal as well. "You go home then, I'll pay. It's my treat."

Thanking his friend's hospitality, Vergilius left the restaurant. Walking to a hidden alleyway, he spun on the spot and disapparated. He appeared in front of a manor, sighing to himself. Home was the last place he wanted to be, the paragon of ideals he hated, yet here he was.

**XXXXX**

Stepping out of the Floo, Astoria brushed off the ash on her knee-length skirt, looking around for her friend. Knowing Anya, she could be anywhere, since the letter only mentioned Diagon Alley and nowhere specific. Thankfully, she was saved the trouble of searching for Anya when she saw the raven-haired girl sitting in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron, scanning through a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Astoria smiled as she bounded over to Anya, hooking a finger over the top of the newspapers Anya was holding up and pulling it down. Anya arched an eyebrow amusedly as the younger girl before closing the papers and setting it back on the table. Astoria caught a glimpse of the headlines 'Black Mark Drug Shipment Intercepted at Dover' before greeting Anya.

"Hello there, good to see you again," Astoria chirped.

"You too," said Anya.

"So where are we going?" Astoria asked, drawing up a chair for herself when she saw that Anya was not getting up anytime soon.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" said Astoria in surprise.

"Well, it's up to you," Anya shrugged. "I was just bored and wanted to stretch my legs, and I invited you along because you would always whinge about how boring it is at your home so I thought might as well bring you along."

"I don't whinge," sniffed Astoria with an affronted look on her face that lasted for seconds. "I'm also not sure where to go, but you probably did save me from a day of boredom."

"Don't know where to go, huh," Anya murmured before speaking louder. "Have you eaten? Cause I have some ideas if you don't."

"No."

"Neither have I," Anya stood up and Astoria followed. "I'm craving curry and we sure aren't going to find them here in Diagon Alley."

Anya gave a meaningful look towards the door to Muggle London and Astoria followed suit, catching on to her meaning.

"We're going to the Muggle world?" Astoria gasped. "My parents say it isn't safe to go out there."

"Trust me, it's safe," Anya moved to the door, holding it open for Astoria.

"Don't Muggles use firearms? I've tried them enough to know its danger."

"Only Muggle law enforcement and military personnel carry them here in Muggle Britain, with the exception of a small number of civilians."

"That's reassuring," Astoria rolled her eyes, moving towards the door.

Astoria stepped out into the Muggle world and looked around, despite being thirteen she had never entered the Muggle world before. She turned around on the spot, soaking in the sights and sounds. Some were familiar, as Muggle items and cultures did occasionally seep into the wizarding world, others not so much.

"Second thoughts?" Anya asked and Astoria shook her head, following Anya as the older girl led her to a parking lot.

Astoria looked at all the cars around, those were still familiar as she had sat in Ministry cars on a few occasions as her father was a Wizengamot member. However, the sleek, two-wheeled vehicle Anya stopped at was something she had never seen before.

"What's that?"

"Motorcycle," Anya explained. "If cars are the Muggle flying carpets, these are the broomsticks."

It did make sense when Anya mounted the vehicle, adopting a posture similar to riding a broomstick. Astoria hopped on behind her and accepted the helmet Anya gave her, glad that she had chosen to wear leggings under her skirt. Starting the engine and revving it up, Astoria gave a startled gasp as Anya kicked off and sped down the parking lot and onto the streets.

Hugging for dear life, Astoria felt an excited thrill as Anya expertly wove around the cars on the street with only inches worth of gap between their motorcycle and the surrounding cars. A traffic light turning from green to yellow made Anya notch the speed up to eleven, swerving hard at a T-junction before the lights turned red. Astoria let out an exhilarated squeal and noticed Anya laughing as well, without a care in the world.

It was no secret in Hogwarts that a big portion of the female population felt infinitely envious of the Gryffindor Chasers, Astoria being one of them. Quidditch and broomstick opportunities were lacklustre for the girls in Hogwarts, especially Slytherin with its higher levels of misogyny. And back at home, Astoria's parents forbade their daughters from riding broomsticks, much to both girls' displeasure. As always, Anya provided an escape for Astoria and it seemed that Anya was providing an escape for herself as well. The older girl was a lot wilder outside of school, daring even. It was a side Astoria had never seen and was glad to witness. The girl had many sides to her that were kept hidden under mysterious veils, it was the reason Astoria hung out with her initially until Anya's personality became more endearing to her.

Parking in front of an Indian restaurant, the pair entered the place, the smell of spices being the greatest sensory input among her five senses. They took their seats and looked at the menu, Astoria being perplexed by the dishes listed. Unlike their Muggle counterparts, Indian cuisine never really made headway into wizarding Britain and Astoria was left asking Anya with eager curiosity about the various dishes offered. When lunch was done, the two roamed the streets of London, talking about anything and everything.

"You decided on your electives?" Anya asked.

"Runes and Muggle Studies," Astoria replied shamelessly, to which Anya laughed.

"Then consider this a jump start to your Muggle Studies."

"Trust me, I'm already learning plenty," said Astoria, looking at the cranes and scaffolding over a building under construction.

"Anya, you're from Russia right?"

"Yes..."

"Do you know anything about the Black Mark? I saw you reading it on the _Daily Prophet_ earlier."

"That article was on the cover."

"And it was continued on page five, which was the page you were on."

"Too observant, this one," Anya nudged her junior jokingly. "Only here and there, not much to know when the Russian Aurors were already flushing them out."

"Nope, you definitely know something," Astoria stated confidently with a grin. "Your uncle was in the background of the pictures and the two of you are close based on your interaction with him when he visited Hogwarts for your Fourth Task. He would have told you something."

"Too observant, this one," Anya grumbled, repeating her words. "I did say here and there."

"Well played Ms Seryy," Astoria laughed. "Spill the beans."

"I would tell you," said Anya darkly. "But then I'd have to kill you."

The two looked at each other for a moment before laughing again, continuing on their tramp around the city.

"By the way, didn't you want to invite me over at some point?" Anya mentioned. "I'm kind of curious to see your home."

"I'll have to ask my parents," Astoria sighed. "They probably have all sorts of criteria before even allowing you to set foot in my place. Honestly, I'd rather be out here than cooped up at home."

"Why's that?"

"Too much politics."

Anya chuckled, shaking her head in sympathy.

Asking was not difficult, Astoria simply had to bring it up during mealtimes back at home. Her parents had always insisted that dinner be a family event during summers. So, Astoria fired the question as soon as possible, which was halfway into dinner; the most appropriate time for asking permission for anything based on some unwritten rule that had always been in place since she was young.

"Mum, dad, is it alright if I invite a friend over?" Astoria asked.

"The same one you went out with today without telling us who?" her father, Cyrus Greengrass, asked, it felt more like a statement to her.

Astoria nodded, ignoring the curious stare from her older sister.

"And who would that be?" Cyrus asked.

"Anya Seryy."

Daphne smirked slightly, as though telling herself 'I knew it'.

"The Hogwarts Junior Champion for the Triwizard Tournament?"

"The very same, dad."

"Her uncle's the Russian Head of Auror Forensics isn't it?" Daphne spoke up. "I saw him in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning, that's the same person from the morning of the Fourth Task."

That caught Cyrus' attention and Astoria suppressed another sigh, more politics. She sometimes forgot her sister was just as observant and sharp as she was, except that her sister utilised her skills more viciously in Slytherin than her. Then again, if this was going to be the reason Anya got invited, she was not complaining. Then again, maybe this was the reason Daphne spoke up, let it never be said that the Ice Queen of Hogwarts does not care.

"You may invite her over, Astoria," Cyrus conceded. "But try to have her uncle come over as well, I've been meaning to have a conversation with the Russians and they are quite difficult to reach."

Astoria mouth opened slightly with incredulity, but recovered immediately. Her father was putting too much hope, Anya's uncle and cousin – was that boy a cousin in the first place? – did not even stay to watch the Tournament despite appearing to be close to one another. If he was that busy, having him come over for the sake of her niece seemed a bit rich. That again, factoring in politics, anything could happen.

* * *

**AN: Do remember to vote for which pairing you prefer.**


	23. Chapter 23 - Crossing the Line

**AN: Wow, more Spooky stuff. Anyways, I suppose here's where I do that thing where authors reply to reviews, experimenting around as an author fresh in the fanfic not be doing it often but I always read the reviews regardless.**

**JohnMonty: You're in luck with the Dumbledore part.**

**MyBeewing: Excellent deduction**

**Jyotsanaa: Anya's right eye has been fine ever since Grey and Nathaniel fixed it. It's just that overexertion of the eye takes a toll on her - imagine the effort in trying to see a Fidelius Charm - and certain strong magical presences can overwhelm her right eye's senses. Not sure what you meant by that question but I hope that answers it.**

**SammyBlueGA: Hey! You can't just put stuff like that in my mind, that's cheating :(**

* * *

Chapter 23 – Crossing the Line

"_How much longer_?" a man asked nervously in Russian.

"_Half an hour_," a teenager replied, leaning back on the chair on the bridge of the container ship they were in. He took out a stick of cigarette, holding his hand over the cigarette and snapping his fingers. A small flame flickered over the tip of the cigarette, lighting it up.

The man looked around the ship, it was an old ship, long past it glory days. The interior of the bridge held the faint scent of mould and rot, the paint on the metal walls peeling in many places. A surly man stood at the helm, glancing at a nearby computer screen with irritation. With his rough jumper and woollen knit cap, he had the complete look of a normal seaman but the nervous man knew better, that person was a Spook.

He was the captain of the ship, but his boss has given him the order to listen to that surly man and that… child. No questions asked and no words spoken, that was the demand and he would find a nice bonus in addition to his paycheck. He had no idea who these people were but they were strange, he had seen the documents they held, they were probably government agents but they were so… eerie.

His eyes darted back to the flame that had just vanished. Magic, it had to be, there was no other explanation for the child conjuring fire with just a snap of the fingers. He had heard stories from his friends in the government, especially from one who used to be in the KGB. They were the strange operatives who could do the impossible, appearing and disappearing from anywhere and performing unnatural feats. If anything, the words of the surly man on the helm confirmed it.

"_Dimitri, stop it_," he barked. "_You know just how unstable radars are under magical environment, use a lighter_."

"_Can't help it_," the boy, Dimitri, shrugged. "_Left it back home_."

"_Your own fault then_."

"_I know you love me_," Dimitri smiled winningly. The nervous man shuddered, it was so unreal, he had a son the same age as the child… teenager, and yet here he was, partaking in what Chinkov could only presume to be a secret government operation.

_Magical environment_? Human experimentation, that had to be it. There was no other possible explanation, the Cold War had seen an arms race between their country and America, and this was likely one of the results. Yes, a super-soldier program, that had to be it.

"_Chinkov, you look nervous_," Dimitri stared at him, taking out a packet of cigarettes and handing it to him. "_Take one, it will calm your nerves. Hell, I'll even light it for you_."

"_Uh… thanks and… no need, I have a lighter of my own_," the nervous man, Chinkov, stammered, accepting the packet and taking out a stick.

"_You sure_?" Dimitri grinned, waving his fingers. "_It's probably a nice show for you, you have never seen it before haven't you_?"

Chinkov shook his head quickly, flinching back when Dimitri gave his finger a casual snap.

"_Dimitri_," the surly man barked once more. "_You're scaring our guest._"

Guest? They were on _his_ ship for goodness sake.

"_Fine, fine_," Dimitri grumbled petulantly, leaning back on his seat once more. "_I'm just bored_."

"_Bored_?" the surly man snorted. "_You just boarded this ship twenty minutes ago_."

Twenty minutes ago? This ship had been en route from St Petersburg to Edinburgh for six days and this boy had only just boarded it. How? Chinkov had been diligent in checking the radar when they were reaching British waters, no vessel had come close to his ship.

A niggling voice spoke up from the back of his head. These people could do the impossible, they could appear, disappear and pass through walls, they were Spooks, ghosts among men. So of course he boarded just twenty minutes ago, the child could have boarded anytime he wanted. In that case, the man could have likely entered Britain anytime he wanted, so why did they need his ship? Cargo, that was likely the answer, they were moving cargo. But what?

Chinkov ploughed his mind through the various possibilities. A nuclear bomb? Oh gods no! That would start a new world war. Anxiously, he made his concerns known, he knew that his boss had given the instructions of no questions asked but he could not hold it in. At least if he knew they were starting a new war, he could send a quick call back home to his wife, telling them to pack their bags and take the fastest flight to a safe country. Switzerland was probably a good choice.

"_Uh… what… what cargo are you… you people moving to Britain on my ship? I'm just a l-little curious_."

The two Spooks looked at him and he held their gaze for seconds before averting them, unable to hold eye contacts with these people.

"_Heh_," the surly man snorted. "_It's not a nuclear bomb, relax. And Switzerland isn't that cheap from what I've heard_."

How? How? Just how? How did they just read his mind? He heard stories from the pubs with his friends – many of them in the government – especially that ex-KGB who was now a security consultant. These… Spooks... they could infiltrate, assassinate and impersonate at ease. And they could also _read minds_?

If that was the case, how had the Soviet Union not won the Cold War… unless… Oh gods! The Americans have their own super-soldiers too, haven't they? How else could the Soviet Union have lost if they had such an arsenal up their sleeves? Suddenly, not joining the army and intelligence service like he had wanted to as a youth seemed like a wise choice, he probably would not stand a chance against these men.

"_Just people_," said Dimitri, releasing a waft of tobacco and nicotine into the bridge, adding yet another flavour into the air.

"_D-dead bodies_?" Chinkov blanched, shaking slightly.

"_No, they are alive_," said the surly man. "_But who they are, we cannot say. Could be slaves, diplomats, hell, we could be transporting a battalion of infantry for all we know_."

"_But…_"

"_No war will come from this, I can assure you that_."

Chinkov heaved a sigh of relief, relaxing onto his seat. Now, he glanced suspiciously at the multitude of containers that his ship was holding, wondering which of them held the clandestine goods.

"_And no word will leak from your mouth, can _you _assure _me _of that_?"

"_O-of course, sir_," Chinkov nodded in fear. He took the job in marine logistics for its low mortality rate. If not, he would have joined the navy. He did not fancy dying just yet.

Silence settled uncomfortably in the bridge once more, at least, it was uncomfortable to Chinkov. From the looks of it, the surly man and the teenager appeared to be in their element, watching the bow of the ship lazily. However, Chinkov could see the contrast in their eyes, keen and sharp, surveying their surroundings with caution. Something was about to happen, Chinkov could feel it prickling down his neck.

"_Five minutes and we will be reaching the British National Ward Grid_," the surly man grunted. "_Dimitri, are you ready_?"

"_Of course I am_," Dimitri retorted. "_That's my only fucking job here_."

Chinkov simply could not contain his curiosity. National Ward Grid? Just what on earth is that?

"_Uh… can I ask what a National Ward Grid is_?"

"_Yeah, you can_," Dimitri nodded.

There was a moment of silence until Chinkov realised that Dimitri was playing with him.

"_So… what is a National Ward Grid_?"

Dimitri snapped his fingers and once more a small ball of amber flames danced in the air. Chinkov jerked back from the soft glow, eyes snapping to Dimitri in panic.

"_Tell me_," said Dimitri. "_Just how do I do this_?"

"_M-magic_?" Chinkov stammered.

"_Correct_," Dimitri nodded and Chinkov could swore his heart skipped a beat. Magic was real!

"_And with that in mind_," Dimitri explained. "_A National Ward Grid is basically a country's nation-wide magical defence, detection and utility system. It takes advantage of the natural ley lines around a country and a highly intertwined infrastructure of rune stones set in key points around a country, all of these are linked together into what is essentially a National Ward Grid_."

Chinkov prided himself in being a savvy man but most of the essential nouns in the boy's explanation made no sense. However, he could get the gist of it, regardless of how surreal it was.

"_Is it… like a computer firewall for a country… but… magic_?"

"_That's one of its features_," Dimitri nodded. "_And that's the one that concerns us at the moment_."

Chinkov gasped in shock, not only was magic existent in people but also in an entire country, but more importantly, they were trying to sneak pass this… National Ward Grid? If it was what Chinkov thought it was, getting caught meant dire consequences. It could possibly bring down the British armed forces down their necks – it was a national defence after all – and those… Spooks… if the British had their own.

"_Are… are we safe_?" Chinkov asked.

"_Very_," Dimitri grinned. "_A National Ward Grid only tracks and detects entry via Apparition, Floo, Portkey and other forms of magical transportation, it turns a blind eye towards a fat ship running on heavy fuel oil_."

Apparition, Floo, Portkey? Chinkov could only assume that these were the strange ways that allowed these Spooks to appear anywhere, well, it only made sense that there was a counter to it, like sonar against submarines. In that case, Chinkov slowly began to understand why they wanted to commandeer his ship, the British authorities would hardly suspect this. Not that it reassured him, the stakes were still high.

"_Are there any risks_?"

"_Yes_," said Dimitri. "_The National Ward Grid could pick up some of the heavy magic we have in some of the containers_."

Chinkov gulped, suddenly it did not sound very safe. Noticing his unease, Dimitri slapped his back and laughed.

"_Relax, that's why I'm here_," Dimitri grinned smugly.

"_Dimitri_," the surly barked. "_Start the disruption_."

Chinkov watched as the child drew out a stick of wood and began chanting in a language that sounded similar to Latin, twirling and waving the wood about. He chuckled nervously to himself, he was watching real magic. Magic was real, he was still trying to get his head around that fact. Around the room, he noticed various symbols around the walls glowing softly. Runes, he heard Dimitri mentioning them offhandedly when explaining the National Ward Grid, that had to be what they were.

The surly man took out a small circular device and looked at it. Chinkov could spy various dials spinning about but he could not make any sense out of them. The surly man glanced back at Dimitri and gave the teenager an approving nod and a thumbs up. They were probably safe, Chinkov heaved a sigh of relief although he had no idea what was going on, all he knew was that he was likely safe and that was all the reassurance he needed.

"_What's going on_?" Chinkov asked, the two Spooks had been gracious in answering his questions so far, it would not hurt to ask more.

"_We're hiding from the National Ward Grid_," the surly man replied curtly.

With a final swish of the wand, Dimitri kept his stick of wood, Chinkov could only assume that to be a wand, relying on the fairy tales he had heard as a kid. Dimitri raised his arms above his head and stretched, groaning in relief.

"_You guys ought to use better runes for the disruption_," Dimitri stated. "_And I would have chosen Falmouth instead of Edinburgh to enter from. Cornwall is a much better entry point, the ward points are weaker there_."

"_You expect me to take one big loop to exploit a conflict in integration of ley lines_?" the surly man snorted. "_It will attract its own form of bad attention_."

"_May I ask why the National Ward Grid is weaker there_?" Chinkov asked, already too invested in the topic.

"_Simple_," said Dimitri. "_The Ministry considers Cornwall to be part of England. However, due to historical and cultural divides, which does affect ley lines, the Cornish ley lines are not de jure English and run separately like the Welsh and Scottish ley lines. Wales and Scotland have an independent Ward Grid each, but Cornwall is integrated into England's Ward Grid which is a problem because of the separate grouping of ley lines. This results in the wards in Cornwall being weaker because it's running on an incompatible system._"

"_Magic works like that_?"

"_Humans affect magic as much as magic affects humans. National and cultural identity is not just a concept, it has tangible presence when taking magic into account, especially for ley lines. That is why borders have a high significance. It's subtle, yes, but on the scale of a country it becomes noticeable_."

"_If that is the case_," said Chinkov curiously. "_What if you apply this logic to the countries in the Balkans? And Israel_?"

Dimitri simply laughed. Chinkov got his answer.

The next hour was a silent affair, everyone on the bridge simply sat about and waited for their turn to dock at the port. Chinkov looked at the time, it was ten in the morning. They had the whole day. Chinkov called the port authorities on the VHF radio, and the clearance for docking was approved. Dimitri took out a radio and fiddled with the channels before pressing the push to talk button, speaking in English.

"Dimitri to Anya, do you hear me? Over."

"Anya to Dimitri, I hear you weak but readable. Over."

"Roger. We're about to dock, any threats or things to look out for? Over."

"Negative and negative. Should be smooth sailing for you. I'll be keeping watch. Over."

Chinkov knew enough of English to know that there was a receiving party on the port waiting for them. As the bulky ship swung into the mouth of the port in Leith, Chinkov kept an eye out at the buildings along the coastline. He knew there was definitely someone out there keeping an eye on his ship but he knew could not spot them, but he was trying nonetheless, more so for the sake of his mental health.

Soon, the tugboats from the port authority towed his ship in place and once his ship was berthed at the port, a lengthy process of checking the cargo manifest and recording down the logs in the system took place. The radio communications between him and the port authorities bounded through and fro, a sideways glance and Chinkov saw the surly man and Dimitri lounging on their seats, watching the trucks and the tugboats scurrying about on their daily activities.

"Anya to Dimitri, one team of customs officers with one sniffer dog moving to Penknife. One port authority police boat with a diving team approaching the starboard side of Penknife."

Once Chinkov heard that buzzing from the radio set in Dimitri's hands, the port authority called him as well. There would be a random inspection for contrabands on board his ship before the containers were unloaded. Penknife, that had to be the codename for his ship. Chinkov gulped audibly and looked out from the windows, true enough, there was a customs inspection team boarding his ship. Looking at the other side of the ship, he got to see several divers jumping into the waters, presumably to check for any contrabands attached to the undersides of the vessel. He turned to face the two Spooks who were unfazed by the situation, but they did stand up from their seats to view the inspection process.

"_Noble to Watchmen, Confundus Charms and Imperious Curses on my signal_," the surly man spoke out to no one in particular.

He turned to Dimitri and nodded, the boy simply raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Chinkov could feel a chilling sensation pass through his body as the air around him swirled with an unknown force.

"_Now_."

Chinkov watched in confusion as the customs officers and even the sniffer dog swayed on their spot momentarily before continuing their inspection. However, Chinkov realised that the customs officers were not doing their inspection properly at all, simply loitering about the deck of the ship without checking for anything. Looking back at the two Spooks in horror, he realised that this was their handiwork. No… _Noble to Watchmen_… there was a whole team of them on his ship and he did not realise them at all.

Shivering to himself, he watched as the customs officers completed their 'inspection' and his ship was cleared to unload. The crane began lifting out the containers from his ship and onto the piles on the port. Soon, a particular red container was lifted from the ship and the surly man once again spoke to no one in particular, by this point, Chinkov assumed that it was probably some form of high-tech or magical communication.

"_Noble to all teams, Paper has left the Penknife_."

Judging from the context of those words, Chinkov heaved a sigh of relief, his job was done. Turning to face the two Spooks, he found himself at the receiving end of Dimitri's wand. His face paled instantly as he looked at the emotionless eyes of the teenager in front of him.

"_Obliviate_."

**XXXXX**

Anya watched as the trailer truck carrying a red container left the port, the X-ray and Gamma-ray radiography scanners in the port were a nuisance. She was pretty sure the passive magic hovering in the surroundings had cost the port authorities hundreds of thousands of pounds in repair fees. She and a few other Spooks had to run around Obliviating and Confunding many of the customs officers when the X-ray machines began frying up from the magic radiating all around the container.

Turning back to the port and checking for anything that might possibly be forgotten, she picked up her Dragunov and slung it over her shoulders before activating a portkey. She appeared at the outskirts of Edinburgh, on a hill overlooking a village. She laid flat on her belly and took out her rifle, surveying the area with her scope. As expected the place was clear, there was no magical community nearby and as a result, the British DMLE had no reason to patrol there yet.

Twenty minutes and Anya could spot the very same truck making its way down the main road before taking a turn into the village. Somewhere on the road, the truck became enchanted because Anya could see the Muggle-Repelling wards in place on the truck and the container, the surrounding Muggles all avoided or took no notice of the errant vehicle.

The truck parked along the roadside and two people hopped out, heading to the tailgate of the container and opening them. From the container, a group of ragged and dirty men stepped out onto the road. Next to Anya, Dimitri appeared with a pop, apparating into place. Dimitri looked down at her prone form and immediately put on a cocky smile.

"Maybe next year you'll finally nail down Apparition," he jibed, nudging her shoulder with his foot.

"Maybe next year you'll finally reach a double digit IQ," Anya replied, still keeping her eye on the village.

Dimitri turned his attention to the trailer in the distance, taking out a pair of Omnioculars to view the scene. The group of ragged men had their attention on the two people who were addressing the former.

"I have to say, this is the most interesting use of convicts I have ever seen."

"Don't they all have a death sentence on them or something back in Russia?" Anya asked.

"We're pitting them against the British Aurors, it _is_ a death sentence of its own."

"Think they will actually listen to the assigned liaisons down there?"

"Probably," Dimitri shrugged. "They may be scums, be a debt is a debt. Not only that, we made it seem like listening to the liaisons provides the best chance of survival they can get. After all, it's not often a 'criminal lord' is able to 'break you out of prison' in Russia."

"Anything to appease the British Ministry I guess," Anya muttered.

"Hey," Dimitri chuckled. "Our Ministry did present the Black Mark as a criminal syndicate, and here they are, real criminals, ripe for catching."

Anya checked the main road again for any intruders, there were none. Turning back to the group of people in the village, she could see the released convicts holding on to a length of rope before they disappeared. Portkey. That was her job done, grabbing Dimitri's hand, the two of them disapparated with a crack.

**XXXXX**

Rustling of parchment surrounded Dumbledore as the Order of the Phoenix concluded their meeting, schedules for the guarding of Harry and the Prophecy were settled and the assignments for each member were given. One by one, each of the members left the dirty, worn-down house that was number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Tom had been gathering his strength, trying to reach the capacity that he had once enjoyed during the peak of the first war.

Dementors, giants, werewolves and trolls, these innately dark and oppressed creatures would be at the top of Tom's list. And then, there was the incident at St Helensworth, initial reports among the Order members suggested that it was a Death Eater raid with Wizengamot member Stamford Jones as their target. However, the Russian Ministry's declaration of the Black Mark threw the idea of a Death Eater raid out the window.

And the timing of this was too much of a coincidence, just shortly after Voldemort's return comes a Russian criminal syndicate? Something was up, Severus' report from the Death Eaters have also hinted collusion between them and the Russian Ministry. If such a thing was the case, Dumbledore feared that Tom would attain a greater military and financial power than he had achieved in the first war.

Then there was Anya Seryy, or Anne Potter, her appearance and circumstance was too fishy. Applying for transfer shortly after the Quidditch World Cup attack, the Russians barging into British affairs after her first year in Britain. Add that on with the fact that she was missing from the Tournament during Voldemort's resurrection and that she had a skillset and possible training similar to Aurors.

Dumbledore sighed to himself and removed his half-moon glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose. The girl was dark and as much as he hated to admit it, it was all his fault. Gellert Grindelwald, Tom Riddle and now Anne Potter. His life was plagued with mistakes regardless of what he tried to do and learn from. He showered Gellert with affection and fostered his ambition, giving him the drive to become the first dark lord of the century. He tried to learn from that and did the opposite with Tom, keeping the boy at arm's length and under a watchful eye when he was aware of his darker nature, pushing him into the dark for refuge.

And now with Anne, he knew he shouldn't have, he knew prophecies could be self-fulfilling, and yet he still fell into that trap. Hindsight was always clearer, the girl was never meant to be dark, and he made her so when he resorted to leaving her abandoned. If affection did not work and neither did its opposite, he had thought he could nip the problem in the bud, but he simply could not bring himself to curse the girl as a baby all those years back. In fact, he had to force himself not to look back when he had abandoned her.

Of course, if he had left Anne to stay with Harry, the prophecy might have pulled the strings of fate in another way, leaving her dark all the same. But as things stand, it was his fault.

_Speaking of Anne Potter._

Dumbledore turned his attention back to the table, everyone had left except for Sirius. He was still at his seat, glaring at him as he stuck his legs up on the table, arms folded. Dumbledore sighed once more, knowing that this talk would come sooner or later, he had hoped it was later but he might as well get it done with quickly lest the bad feelings fester.

"Sirius, is there anything you wish to talk about?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Yes," said Sirius harshly. "Anne."

"I suppose it was only a matter of time," said Dumbledore as he rubbed his glasses with his robes before putting them back on.

"I want an explanation and I have waited too long," Sirius snapped, putting his leg down and leaning forward to slam his palms on the table. "You owe me one. You owe Harry one. You owe her one."

"Rightfully so, Sirius," Dumbledore sighed. "I believe an appropriate drink will be recommended for this chat."

Sirius snorted, drawing his wand and summoning an old bottle of firewhisky. A flick of his wand and two tumblers appeared and the bottle began to pour a healthy amount of amber liquid into the tumblers. A push had one tumbler sliding across the table into Dumbledore's hand, Sirius picked his own tumbler up and took a sip.

"Where do you wish to begin?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why did you leave her?"

"Do you know why Voldemort seeks Harry's death?"

"A prophecy," Sirius answered. "The one we are guarding now, Voldemort knows a part of it and went after Harry. You told me, James and Lily about this years ago."

"But I never told you all of it, did I not?"

"Of course not, secrecy of vital information is important, especially in a war. I understand that, being a Hit Wizard in the first war taught me that."

"True," Dumbledore nodded. "But the prophecy did not just speak of Harry, it also mentioned Anne too."

Sirius kept quiet but narrowed his eyes, giving Dumbledore a small nod. Dumbledore took the cue to continue.

"Anne would turn dark. It is quite likely she already is."

Sirius took another sip, this one much bigger.

"Was she born dark?" Sirius spat angrily. "Or did she turn dark when she grew up in Russia because _someone_ abandoned her?"

"A self-fulfilling prophecy, I know," said Dumbledore shamefully. "It was and still is my fault."

Sirius downed the rest of the firewhisky. Putting the tumbler back onto the table with a loud thump.

"Glad we agree on something, Dumbledore," said Sirius as he refilled his tumbler. "So what do you plan to do now? Get rid of her?"

Dumbledore kept quiet, drinking his own tumbler of firewhisky.

"You can't be serious," Sirius snarled, understanding Dumbledore's silence. "You made her become who she is and _this_ is how you intend on cleaning up?"

"It's not that Sirius," said Dumbledore, draining down his tumbler of firewhisky. "It is because I cannot allow her to be with Harry."

"And why not!?" Sirius roared, standing up.

"The prophecy, she will risk turning Harry dark as well if they are together. We cannot afford him to turn dark as well, or else everything that we are fighting for will be for naught. The connection with Voldemort that Harry has already poses a risk."

"In case you haven't noticed," said Sirius. "The two have already been together for some time. And as far as I know, Harry has never changed."

"All the more we must mitigate this before anything happens," Dumbledore countered. "Voldemort cannot win and we need Harry for this. Sirius, I need you to do your part and keep the twins away from each other."

"No," Sirius shook his head vehemently. "I will not play your game here. They are my godchildren and do not think for one second that I will do such a thing. The war is important but being a godfather comes first, you do what you want, Dumbledore. I will continue to take care of them as I should have, whether or not that involves them being together."

"But if Harry turns dark- "

"Then we'll fight Voldemort the same as always, regardless of what Harry becomes."

"And Anne- "

"Is suffering only because of you, who cares if she is dark? Harry told me how they were in the Third Task. She is _not_ a threat, in fact, I would bring her into the Order along with Harry if I could. Fuck, I would keep them out of all this if it was possible."

"She disappeared for Voldemort's resurrection and shortly after that, the Russian Ministry is now intervening. She could be colluding with Voldemort for all we know."

"Bullshit," Sirius shook his head. "We leave Anne out of this, this war only concerns Harry and Voldemort. I have it up to here distancing myself from Harry under your orders. I will not bother Anne, she's the line I will not cross. I've messed up with her and I'm paying back by giving her the breathing space she needs."

"Alright," Dumbledore sighed. "We agree to disagree then?"

"Not just that, you take steps to ensure her safety as you should have." Sirius drained down his tumbler once more. "You did that with Harry, although in my opinion, no amount of blood wards is worth the trade off of living with those people. You're going to ensure Anne's safety as well and you're going to do a better job than you did with Harry."

Dumbledore stared at Sirius, knowing there was no room for argument. He understood, everyone in the Order was invested in the war but everyone had their commitments. The Weasleys had their children, Tonks had her parents and Sirius had his godchildren. If he still had a family left, he would have placed them above the war. But he had none left, all he had left was his work and duty.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly before heading out to the door, leaving Grimmauld Place as well. Upon leaving the wards, he spun on the spot and disapparated to Hogsmeade and headed up the winding road that eventually led to Hogwarts. Reaching his office, he opened the cabinet that held all the files of every student. Taking out a folder labelled 'Seryy, Anya', he opened it and read through it once more.

Her grades were consistent and decent. He could not refer to exam scores due to her exemption from exams. The teacher reviews were either glowing or fine. No disciplinary issues, a clean record in fact. Dumbledore sighed, he could not find any reason to expel her, none that would be approved by the Hogwarts Board of Governors, especially with his popularity at an all-time low in the eyes of the Ministry. The fact that she became a Triwizard Junior Champion representing Hogwarts made it even more impossible, a fact further accentuated by her high scores during the Tournament.

If he could send her back to Russia or anywhere away from Harry, things would be fine. But as things stand, he would need to find a way to separate them. Dumbledore hated doing this to Anne, but he had to, for the sake of Harry and the countless lives at risk when war breaks out. Besides, for all of Wizarding Russia's bad reputation, Britain was about to become a much more dangerous place. Anne going back to Russia would keep her safe and it would be a step towards paying her back.

Anne and Harry would be safer that way.


	24. Chapter 24 - Son, Daughter, Mother

**AN: Woah, no upload last week? What am I? Some kind of a lazy bum? Maybe, I don't know. But what I do know is that my life has been busy lately and I know for a fact that it's about to get busier. On top of that, I had to sit down and do some planning for the Year Five plot instead of just straight away writing because it started to get a little too convoluted in my head and sometimes writing plot plans down is much better because my pint-sized brain doesn't have enough RAM to handle things. And on top of that, I bought new games and I'm the kind of lad that's willing to sink a hundred hours into them.**

**Long story short, don't expect ye olde weekly uploads anytime soon :(**

* * *

Chapter 24 - Son, Daughter, Mother

Each passing day brought out a hotter day, Harry noticed this trend quite early on this summer. The hot air clung onto every shred of exposed skin, a problem accentuated by the broken air conditioning of the Dursleys which resulted in a two-storey oven. Dudley chose to escape the suffocating indoor heat by constantly hanging out with his friends. Harry, on the other hand, stuck to the house, glossing through the cover page of newspapers both Muggle and magical.

Thus far, there had been no news of Voldemort's return, no unusual deaths or mysterious disappearances were reported. The only one that he could notice and understand were that of Mr Goyle and Mr Avery, two names Voldemort had listed when the Death Eaters returned. They were both reported to have died from an unexpected onset of dragon pox, with one of them passing on the disease to the other when they had met, Harry knew that those were the two who mysteriously died in the graveyard from some unknown phenomenon. In fact, the only thing that seemed 'dark' was the new Russian syndicate that arrived in Britain. So far, they haven't killed anyone outside of the event on St Helensworth, but some people were sent to St Mungo's when they ran into the criminals by accident.

Two articles on wizarding families being held ransom - their family members had bought them off for a hefty sum - and several on exposed black market trade and extortion. Other than that, no Voldemort. He was getting frustrated too, he had been sent back here with no information whatsoever. All contact with him seemed to cease abruptly, his godfather and friends only sending snippets of words, nothing more.

_Speaking of Russia._

He turned to see the framed picture he had propped up on his desk, it was the only photo he had of his sister. It was the night of the Yule Ball, the photo taken courtesy of Collin Creevey. One in green dress robes, the other white, both smiling. Comparing the photo with that of their parents, he realised that while he was all James with Lily's green eyes, she was all Lily with James' black hair, though she did retain their mother's silky hair. Looking at this photo, he should have realised they were siblings. Well, he did, but he shouldn't have wavered in his belief. They looked so natural together in the photo, as though they had been growing up together happily.

Harry liked to assume that had it not been for Voldemort, the two of them would have gotten along very well. He could imagine it, him being the more hot-headed of the two, he would begrudgingly admit that flaw of his. Anne would be the more level-headed one, having to often calm him down when he got into disputes. And in turn, he would be the one always checking up on her to see if she was fine. He chuckled, knowing that he would have been an overprotective brother had he been given the chance.

Instead, the reality was similar but with unsettling differences because of that Halloween night. Yes, Anne did calm him down, difference being that she only saw it fit to do when they were teetering along the jaws of death, surrounded by acromantulas. And yes, he did try to check up on her as often as he could when he discovered her identity. But instead of the innocent dream where she would be fine, chastising him for being overprotective while smiling fondly all the same, she was never fine in reality. Covered in scars, she would still smile at his questions but the smile would never reach her eyes.

Voldemort turned their lives upside down, shattering away their innocence. The nightmare at the graveyard haunted him for most of the nights, forcing him to wake up in the middle of the night far too many times. Pulling at the collar of his shirt for ventilation, he got up and decided to leave the house, the Dursleys were always glad to have him out of sight and it would not be good to be in the house stewing, mentally and physically.

Stepping out of the house, Harry began to wander aimlessly around the neighbourhood. The residents of Privet Drive glared at him suspiciously, his reputation as a delinquent had spread far under Vernon's words, even the kids crossed to the opposite side of the street when they saw him coming.

Behind him, he heard a soft crunching of shoe on dry grass before the almost silent taps of sole on pavement. The sound grew closer and his hand edged closer to the wand hidden in his pocket.

"You really ought to get a holster for that."

The wry and amused tone of the voice was very familiar and Harry spun around, staring at the source of the voice in disbelief. His sister stood there, in loose pants, jacket and a pair of rugged boots, looking at him with silent judgement. Jet-black hair done up in a usual low ponytail with locks of loose hair framing her face. Lithe figure that stood on firm feet. Sharp and cautious green eyes that revealed as much as it hid. There was no doubt this was Anne, she did not bother with her glamour charms, the scar on her eye as well as several smaller ones on her neck and jaw were on full display.

"Anne!?" Harry gasped and Anya gave that amused smile he was so accustomed to.

"Didn't think I would find you here," said Anya.

Harry immediately pulled her into a tight hug, which she allowed but never returned. After having contact with his friends practically severed, it was a godsend to have his sister her in the flesh. And among his friends and godfather, she was the only one with no obligation - merely having the relationship of an acquaintance - to maintain contact with him and yet here she was.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked when he pulled out of his hug, his tone of equal confusion and joy.

"Mooching around," Anya shrugged. "I have a question for you though. You live around here?"

Harry nodded, wondering where this was going.

"Do you know who lives in Number 4 Privet Drive? There's supposed to be a wizard who lives there."

"Uh... that's me," Harry answered awkwardly.

"Oh," Anya responded and for once, Harry caught a look of surprise flashing through her face.

She took out a piece of parchment and looked at its contents. She looked back up at Harry and her eyes averted once more to the parchment before giving a soft sigh.

"Well... I don't know about you," Harry chuckled weakly, scratching the back of his head. "But this seems a little awkward."

"Please," Anya snorted, rolling her eyes. "It's not as awkward as having your brother ask you out to Yule Ball."

Harry's palm hit his face as he flushed in embarrassment.

"You're never going to let me live that down, aren't you?"

"Nope," Anya stated blandly, handing the parchment in her hands to Harry. "You ought to read this though."

Harry took the parchment and read it curiously, trying to get a grip at the situation he was in.

_To whomever this may concern,_

_Your target resides in No. 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, he is the only wizard in the household. Ensure that his death cannot be traced back to you. Your payment of two thousand galleons will be transferred to your Gringotts account once the death of your target has been confirmed._

_A friend_

Harry heard a clicking sound and felt cold metal press against the back of his head. His heart froze.

"It's amazing how the British authorities assume all death by firearms are the work of Muggles and no one else."

Her voice was emotionless, a cold steel that stung more than the real metal against his head.

"Goodbye, brother."

A loud crack of the gun going off reverberated in Harry's ears. He felt his body go weak and limp as dropped onto the pavement, his hands and knees bracing against the pavement. His mind was blank, shattered in disbelief at the fact that his sister had shot him. He waited, waited for the cold darkness to overwhelm him.

He waited.

It didn't come.

Gingerly, he reached to feel the back of his head. It was dry, not slick with blood. In fact, he was not in pain, merely in shock. Still on his knees, he turned to face his sister. She had a stoic face but he could see the corners of her lips twitching.

"Too much?" she cracked.

Harry's jaw dropped as he tried to process the information before groaning loudly. Anne was definitely a Marauders' child, albeit in a cruel, twisted sort of way.

"I can't believe you did that," Harry grumbled, climbing back onto his feet. "Where did you even get that? I thought it was real."

"The pistol?" said Anya, already stowing the weapon. "Bought it from Tesco's for ten pounds in the toys section."

"It was too much," Harry answered her initial question, falling in step with Anya as she began strolling down the street. "With Voldemort back, I almost that was a real assassination contract."

His sister did not speak for a minute before dropping him another bombshell.

"It is real," Anya stared at him with eyes narrowed seriously. "That's why I showed it to you. Watch your back, I found one person tailing you the whole time when I arrived."

"What!?" Harry yelped, looking around him in panic. "Where is he? What happened? How...?"

"Relax, I knocked him out cold and placed him under binds. In the meantime, you ought to watch who you make friends with."

"Why?"

"The one who was tailing you, he was that Weasley person."

"Wait! Mr Weasley!? Ron's dad!?"

"That was Ron Weasley's dad?" Anya murmured. "I suppose I can see the resemblance, didn't take him to be a contract killer."

Harry thought about Anya's words. Why would Mr Weasley want to kill him? It did not add up. If anything, the Weasleys treated him like family. Anya had to be wrong.

Unless she was right about everything except for Mr Weasley's intent. Harry swore under his breath when he realised what was going on. Dumbledore had people tailing him for protection, but did not reach out to tell him about it. It added up, after the Fourth Task it did seem like Dumbledore was assembling an Anti-Voldemort group of sorts, this must have been one of their tasks.

"He isn't a contract killer," Harry corrected her spitefully. "Dumbledore probably placed him there to protect me, he likely knew that people were going to come after me, seems he was right too."

"He was here to protect you?" said Anya before sighing again. "Merlin, this day gets more and more awkward."

Harry laughed weakly at Anya's look of exasperation. It was rare to see other emotions on her face and it was nice, it made her seem more human, more like a sister.

"You didn't cause permanent harm did you?" Harry asked uncomfortably.

"Thankfully not," Anya replied offhandedly. "Placed him under a sleeping spell before binding him, I'll just have to remove the binds and he'll think he fell asleep under a hot summer afternoon."

"Wait!" Harry cried out. "How did you do magic? You're underage."

"Same with drinking," Anya shrugged. "Don't get caught."

"And how do you not get caught?"

"I have my ways," Anya responded cryptically. "You want to go see this... Mr Weasley?"

"No," Harry spat out. "If Dumbledore wants to keep me isolated, he can damn well do what he wants."

Anya noted quietly before turning her attention to the quiet neighbourhood, observing the place.

"But the contract... it was real?"

"Came from an owl from the Ministry."

Harry was surprised. Fudge did deny Voldemort's resurrection, but to go as far as silencing him in this manner was too much. Suddenly, suspicion gripped him, he cast a glance towards his sister who was walking without a care in the world.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I don't know," Anya chuckled. "You're the one following me."

That was true.

"Then why are you here? How did you get that letter? You were searching for me after all."

"A friend passed it to me. Wanted me to find out who the Ministry was so intent on murdering."

The letter was real. That alone was a shock, Harry looked at Anya once again. As far as he knew, his sister loved misdirection, she would make small offhand comments to mislead him. If the letter was real, he was sure of that given Mr Weasley's presence, then the pistol... It looked and sounded too real to be bought off Tesco's...

"Your friend from the Black Mark?" Harry guessed wildly, dreading the truth.

"Good guess but no."

"Then?"

Anya arched an eyebrow and shrugged. Harry groaned, why can't his sister be anything but complicated for once? Sighing, he tugged Anya into a one-armed side hug as they walked.

"I'm glad you're here anyway," he mumbled.

"I'm not. Wasted one hour that could have been spent doing the summer homework."

"Hermione pairing with you for the Runes project was a bad influence," Harry snorted.

"Who do you live with?" Anya asked. "I heard from the Slytherins you live with Muggles."

"That will be our aunt and uncle."

Anya kept quiet, looking at Harry. Harry averted his gaze, the scarred eye that glowed eerily was uncomfortable to maintain eye contact with.

"They don't treat you well do they?" Anya asked softly, Harry could detect a hint of genuine care in her voice.

"How would you know?" Harry retorted defensively.

"I could feel your ribcage very easily," Anya replied calmly, nudging him gently at his side with her elbow, as if to prove a point. "Skin and bones."

"Fine, fine, whatever," Harry muttered, never enjoying it when others spoke of his treatment at the Dursleys. "Why do you care?"

"Sirius did ask me to keep an eye on you," Anya turned her head to face the front, watching the distant brown dry grass dance in the hot summer wind. "And I figured you deserve the chance, nobody deserves to be separated from family, it hurts."

There was a weariness in the last sentence that prompted Harry to look back at his sister, examining her faraway demeanour. Harry pulled her closer, sighing as he rested his head against hers, they were almost the same height. She did not move away, simply adjusting her step so that they walked in synchrony, never tripping from their proximity.

"Sirius did tell me to take care of you as well," Harry said gently. "But it's so hard to do that with you, you're so uncooperative."

Anya hummed a slow tune as she ignored his words. Slowly, she shrugged out of his arm. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she took out a pen and notepad, scribbling something on a page.

"Do you really need to take care of me?" Anya smirked at him. Harry could swear there was a hint of... was it pity? Sadness?

"Of course," said Harry, confused.

"What if I wouldn't be here for long? Here in Britain that is. After all, I do live in Russia and I will be returning there eventually."

Harry got where she was going at, Anne did spend her life there. But did not matter to him, he still had three more years with her until they graduated.

"Doesn't matter," Harry shook his head. "We are siblings and I'll take care of you. You may leave, sure, I really hope you stay but every moment with what I have left of my family... I'll take it."

"Wouldn't that make it harder on you, when I do leave?" Anya raised an eyebrow in question.

"Doesn't matter."

Anya nodded slowly, tearing off the page on her notepad. She handed it to Harry, who took it and looked at it, it was a phone number. Anya reached into her pocket and handed an object to him, he took it and realised it was a hand phone, a simple hardy Nokia.

"In case you ever want to meet up or in trouble," said Anya. "If I don't pick up, don't bother, it means I'm busy. I'll owl you the charger for the phone."

Harry stared at the grey Nokia in his hands in awe, nobody bothered to contact him and yet here was his sister.

"I have to go," Anya turned away and left, waving her hand. "Things to do and people to see."

Watching his sister walk away, Harry waved back forlornly, flinching slightly in surprise when she vanished into thin air. Underage magic, and yet she did it without being in trouble. As always, Anne Potter always had to be a mystery.

**XXXXX**

Anya was sure her birthday was not correct, Grey might be good at guessing their age, but to be precise enough to pinpoint a date of birth was too much. Maybe she should ask Harry for their exact birthday, but really, it did not matter. Her birthday may have been something else when she was born, but now it was different.

"Happy Birthday!"

Familiar voices erupted all around her she reached for the salmon. She was not in her apartment, rather she was in one of the safehouses that Nathaniel happened to be in. He was the one who strongly suggested that Anya celebrated her birthday there.

Jen and Dimitri were there naturally, Aleks was too busy dealing with the British Aurors to attend and Grey back in Arkhangelsk. Nathaniel was at the side of the dining room conversing easily with several other operatives Anya had worked with on multiple times. Several faces were unknown, but she did not care, the safehouse was meant to be shared.

This birthday celebration was a quick event and soon it was time for her presents. She never received much presents, but she did not care, she knew she would not always have the time to enjoy them. The presents, if they came, were usually practical, nothing gaudy.

Jen got her a new knife, it was a Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife, famous for its association with the British Commandos and other Muggle special forces. It was well made with various runes etched on the blade.

"Thought I'd get you something local," he grinned. "My runes aren't as great as yours, but you wouldn't need to sharpen that knife for a very long time and it'll probably sink through steel. I did leave space for you to add your own runes too."

Dimitri got her a new set of tools for etching runes, made of tungsten carbide. Simple but very much appreciated. It was almost as though the two had coordinated their gifts, but knowing that duo's weird form of improvised and chaotic synergy, it was probably random. Those were all the gifts she received, nothing more but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Anya, come with me for a moment," Nathaniel's clear voice sailed across the room, he nodded his head towards the door and Anya took the hint.

Standing from her seat, Anya followed him up the stairs to an office. Nathaniel drew his wand and with a swish, revealed a lockbox hidden in a corner. The pair came nearer and Anya could spot the British Department of Mysteries emblem on the lid of the lockbox. Nathaniel proceeded to deactivate the runes surrounding the lockbox and unlocked it. Reaching in, he took out a binded document, handing it to Anya.

Anya took it and glanced at the cover, flipping to the next page, she gasped as she read the words on it. One name stuck out in particular. She looked back at Nathaniel with bewilderment, as though asking how and why.

"I was going through the archives at the British Department of Mysteries," Nathaniel explained. "I came across this and I thought it would be a fitting birthday present."

Anya gave her mentor and guardian a hug, quietly muttering her thanks. Breaking from the embrace, she looked back at the document.

"I guess you'll want some time with this alone," Nathaniel smiled warmly. "The celebration is more or less over."

Anya nodded gratefully and Nathaniel cast the Portkey Charm on the document in Anya's hands, sending her back to her apartment. She made her way to her bedroom and placed the document on her bed. Grabbing her towel and sleepwear, she treated herself with a long shower.

In a loose shirt and sweatpants, she climbed back onto her bed, feeling fresh. Taking the document in her hands, she began to read it hungrily.

_CLASSIFIED 08M/08R_

_This document can only be read by personnel with Level 08M or 08R clearance or above. Personnel without proper authorisation caught possessing or viewing this document or a copy of this document will face an Azkaban sentence of at least 30 years in addition to a Memory Charm being performed._

_MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES_

_RESEARCH DOCUMENT E9D634F_

_**PROJECT ETHEREAL RECOIL: EXPERIMENTATION ON RELIABLE LOVE-BASED SACRIFICIAL PROTECTION**_

_DATE: 24 DECEMBER 1980_

_DOCUMENT BY: 06A Vivian Dicton_

_CONTENT_

_ABSTRACT - 1_

_PROJECT SUMMARY - 2_

_PRIMARY WORKINGS - 4_

_APPLICATION OF THEORY - 115_

_RESULTS AND CONCLUSION - 274_

_ANNEX A - 304_

_ANNEX B - 367_

_ANNEX C - 412_

_ANNEX D - 476_

_Page 1 of 555_

_ABSTRACT_

_Love has been dubbed as the strongest form of magic by various sources throughout history. Many myths and stories hold love as a powerful force that can be used as an omnipotent form of protection. Indeed, archives in the Department of Mysteries have confirmed that love has been used as a powerful counter-charm against various spells, usually in the form of sacrificing oneself. These instances have been documented throughout history, further reference can be seen on Annex D._

_However, the basis of these counter-charm can be theoretically determined as unstable at best. Given that there is no consistent spell or Arithmetic formulas for these love-based sacrificial protection, the instances that have been recorded can be classified as proto-magic and therefore unreliable._

_As such, Project Ethereal Recoil seeks to find a method to reliably employ love-based sacrificial protection. Not only would the project expand the potential of counter-charms and counter-curses, but it could also lay the foundation for magically defining love by tangible means. As of the date this document has been recorded, Project Ethereal Recoil has been concluded by 02R Lily Potter as a success. Declaration as success had been approved by 09R Steven Hawk._

_PROJECT SUMMARY_

_Project Ethereal Recoil began on 11 April 1979 and ended on 27 June 1980, heavily building and relying on various other works of research from sources both inside and outside the department. Results from Project Still Heart, Project Solaris Ten and Project Guinea Kuri were the most heavily used, of which all were highly experimental and partially successful. Further details on derived research can be found in Annex C. Despite having only the rank of 02R, 02R Lily Potter was given special clearance to access higher-level research under the approval of 09R Steven Hawk._

Anya's chest heaved as she saw those words, that name, Lily Potter. Here in her hands was proof that she was alive, that she had left her mark on this world before leaving it. Her eyes stayed on her mother's name for seconds each time they came across it, she had to force herself to move to the next words and continue on reading the document.

_By applying and repeating rune sequence R5 on the body, the containment of a subject's love can be ensured into the magical core of the subject. As a result, the raw energy of a subject's love can be completely channelled into magical power. Following the previously calculated magi-dynamic pathways, Beta Working 213(Refer to Annex A for further details), Flamel's Ninth Postulate on Magic will ensure that all magical power naturally be directed into a defensive and reflective nature. Although this is still technically considered as a form of proto-magic due to the lack of a complete and defined Arithmetic formula, its results in experimentation, EX14 (Refer to Annex B for further details), showed a rate of success of 83%, which falls within the accepted range of reliable. Additionally, further testing EX15 (Refer to Annex B for further details) revealed that the presence of familiar bonds can result in a 100% success rate as well as long lasting protection that can be derived as a subset of blood wards (Refer to Annex C for further details)._

While reading through the document, Anya realised that her mother was nothing short of a prodigy. Lily's understanding and application of runes was miles better than her. Furthermore, her creativity was phenomenal. Anya smiled wanly, understanding why she had always excelled in Runes, she got it from Lily. Looking at the lines of Arithmetic workings, Anya felt like she should have studied it as well, Lily was as good in Arithmancy as she was in Runes.

_Observing the results from various subjects under experimentation EX18 (Refer to Annex B for further details), a clear trend can be derived from the love-based sacrificial magic. The magic inflicted on the subject(S) is directly proportional to both the magic reflected onto the caster(C) and the protection offered to the subject's target(T) should the caster(C) proceed to inflict magic on the subject's target(T) afterwards._

_As a result, should C use Spell A on S when the R5 is active under condition H4, the level of protection offered to T will be of equal magnitude to the power of Spell A and the reflection of magic onto C will be of equal magnitude to the power of Spell A._

_Hence, when C proceeds to cast the subsequent spell(Spell B) on T, the result will be as follows:_

_Magic Inflicted on T = Magnitude Spell B_ – _Magnitude Spell A_ _\+ c_

_Magic wasted due to incomplete reflection onto C = Magnitude Spell B_ – _Magnitude Spell A_ _\+ c_

_Do note that the workings above are loose guidelines, refer to Annex A for further details(Omega Working 56)._

_As such, should Spell A be of equal or greater power than Spell B, complete protection on T and reflection to C will be achieved. Under the assumption that there are no external interference(c=0)_

Anya glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already three in the morning but she could not be bothered. She turned her attention back onto the document and continued to devour it. Page after page, her eyes ate each word as time slowly became a river she was unaware of. There was so much information in the document, she could not believe that Lily had laid another level of groundwork in quantifying love in terms of magic. The academic side in Anya knew that this was big, esoteric branches of magic had always been a big mystery despite their usefulness. The Patronus Charm was a good example, it was a standard spell required for Aurors – especially for British Aurors where the Dementors originate from – and yet academics around the magic could not properly define it, something about using happy memories and thoughts to fuel that resulted in large portions of the spell being undefinable.

_ADDENDUM 2_

_DATE: 05 NOVEMBER 1981_

_DOCUMENT BY: 06A Vivian Dicton_

_Although successful against many spells such as the Stunning Spell, Severing Charm and even the Cruciatus Curse(Refer to Annex B for further details). The possibility of the results of Project Ethereal Recoil has never been tested against the Killing Curse._

_However, following the event on 31 October 1981 where DL-A19-02 was 'eliminated' by Harry James Potter, Field Operative Unspeakables 05F Brandon Tay and 06F Henry Blight were dispatched onto the site to investigate. Examining the body of Research Unspeakable 03R Lily Potter, Ethereal Recoil rune sequence R5 was discovered on her left arm. Runes were marked in blood and a bite wound was found on 03R Lily Potter's right thumb._

_Since no strict experimentation protocols or forms of observation were in place during the event, it cannot be concluded if rune sequence R5 was activated at all or if it worked against the Killing Curse. Although circumstantial evidence points to the fact that it did work as DL-A19-02 is noted to favour the Killing Curse and taking into account Omega Working 56 (Refer to Annex A), the spells used against 03R Lily Potter and Harry Potter would have likely been the same. This would fulfil the requirement for a complete protection against the Killing Curse, which did occur albeit leaving a scar, and a complete reflection of the Killing Curse against DL-A19-02, which is suspected to occur as DL-A19-02 disappeared although no body of DL-A19-02 has been recovered._

_In conclusion, it is still unknown whether the works of Project Ethereal Recoil are successful against the Killing Curse due to the lack of evidence. Further testing will be required and approval for testing is under pending._

Finishing the document, Anya flipped back onto the cover, running her finger under the words. Ethereal Recoil, Lily Potter's greatest work and greatest sacrifice. Had it not been for her, things would have been very different. Slotting the document onto a nearby bookshelf, she looked out to the window and saw that the sun was already rising. She had burnt the whole night reading the document and she would not be surprised if she did it again, there was something addicting with reading the work that her mother had created.

* * *

**AN: Too bad subscripts don't work on FFN :(**


	25. Chapter 25 - Summertime Meetings

**AN: It's been a while, sorry for the wait. Hope this helps stave off the boredom as we all stay at home. Stay safe people.**

* * *

Chapter 25 - Summertime Meetings

"Sorry, but the number you called is unavailable."

Those were the words that Harry had heard multiple times. It had become a regime everyday. Make breakfast for the Dursleys, check the Daily Prophet, check the assortment of Muggle newspapers that Vernon subscribed to, do some of his summer homework and then call Anne.

The regime so far was still young, only five days old. In the five days, his sister had yet to pick up a single one of his calls. Still, a person can hope. He dialled the number Anne had provided him, wondering not for the first if this was an elaborate prank.

His phone beeped as it tried to connect. Harry lay on his bed, the Nokia against his ear. Suddenly, there was a buzz and the call went through. Harry flung himself to his feet, surprised that his call was picked up.

"Hello? Anne?"

There was a pause.

"Anything going on, Harry?"

"No, I just thought... you want to meet up?"

"I'll try. I'll call you back if I can."

There was a click and the call was hung up. Harry plopped back down onto the bed, scooping up the letters left on the floor. Sirius, Ron and Hermione, letters from each of them giving some vague words and advice to keep a low profile.

Harry snorted at those letters, two weeks of being stuck in the Dursleys and he could feel himself getting more and more restless. It was half an hour before his phone rang and he snatched it up from the table, answering the call immediately.

"We can meet, see you outside."

That was all he got before the call was unceremoniously hung up once more. Shrugging to himself, he kept the phone in his pocket, his wand followed suit. Ignoring Vernon and Petunia's pointed glares, he stepped out of the house and began walking down the same path that had led to Anne days ago.

Ending up at the same street, he saw her sister leaning nonchalantly against a streetlight, looking at the children frolic in the nearby playground. Coming closer to her, Harry noticed that her right hand was completely bandaged, the white of the dressing contrasting the grey of her jacket. Once again, too many questions rose in his mind when he saw her.

"Hi... what happened to your hand?" Harry asked, pointing at the bandaged hand.

"Hmmm? Oh, this?" Anya waved the covered hand. "Got burned."

"Don't you have spells for that?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Anya shook her head, firing a question of her own. "What do you want to do?"

"Anything, we can just walk around," Harry suggested, leading the way.

The two fell into step, walking down the neighbourhood in silence. A silence that Harry was starting to grow uncomfortable with. He glanced at Anya and saw that she seemed content with the silence, opting to observe her surroundings.

"How did you get here?" Harry broke the silence.

"Portkey."

"And you had me waiting for half an hour because...?" Harry knew that portkeys were almost instantaneous in their travel, a fact that conflicted with the waiting time.

"Had to get rid of your babysitter."

"Mr Weasley?" Harry guessed, a creeping frustration coming back against his wizarding contacts that refused to let him know what was going on.

"No, some mangy person in rags," Anya answered, scrunching her nose in distaste. "Could have sworn I saw that face in Knockturn Alley."

"Nothing permanent, I hope," Harry had to make sure, knowing his sister's penchant for violent spells.

Anya shook her head, handing him a wrapped package which she took out from her jacket. Harry took it, trying to get a feel of its contents. It felt leathery, with a few hard parts. He looked back at Anya in confusion.

"I don't know when your birthday is," she explained. "It may have passed for all I know, so here it is. Happy belated or early birthday."

"Thanks," Harry nodded, a slight twinge of guilt that he could not reciprocate her gift. "You're early though, my birthday is thirty-first of July."

"So is yours," Harry added, his eyes darting back towards Anya. "When do you celebrate your birthday then?"

"Few days ago."

"Should have gotten you something," Harry muttered. "Anyways, what did you get me?"

"Find out yourself," Anya snorted, gesturing towards the package.

Harry tore open the package as they walked, taking out the object inside. It was a wand holster, with straps for either the wrist or the waist. Harry recalled Anya's statement of him needing a holster for his wand.

"Thanks," Harry grinned.

Anya nodded with a small smile.

"How about I treat you to lunch?" Anya suggested. "The town is not that far away."

"Are you serious?" Harry swung his head in surprise.

Anya gave a jerk of her head, as though saying 'why not?', and increased her pace to lead Harry down the main road out of the suburbs.

**XXXXX**

"I still think you are an idiot."

"It alright, the feeling is mutual."

"Fuck off."

"Hey, not my fault! Who keeps petrol in an office?"

"Fuck you! Who uses thermite paste to crack open a door when wands exist?"

Jen and Dimitri lay prone on the top of a four-storey building, watching the latter's burning handiwork a block away. They turned back to their omniculars, peering through the lens. At a nearby clearing stood a small gathering of people. The two hundred metre radius was laced with wards to prevent eavesdroppers, wards that Jen and Dimitri had cracked through undetected.

Two people from the gathering broke off to check on the burning building, the sirens of the local fire department could be heard in the distance.

"If they got scared off, you owe me a very nice meal," Jen declared, looking at the nervous gathering that did not disperse despite the nearby fire. Had they been in their shoes, alarm bells would have fired off in their heads. The people were either unprofessional and inexperienced or they really needed to meet the other party due to a small window. "Can't believe they're still sticking around."

"They're the real idiots," Dimitri snorted, lighting a cigarette with a prod of his wand.

"You're smoking on the job?"

"Fuck you, it calms my nerves."

"Bad addiction, mate."

"Better than Anya's."

There was a pregnant pause when those words were spoken. The two looked at each other awkwardly before Dimitri started to shift uncomfortably, cracking first.

"Yeah, let's not talk about that," Dimitri muttered.

"You talked to her about _that_ yet?" Jen asked.

"I'm always the one that has to talk to her about that," Dimitri retorted. "She's not doing it as much... I thought I said let's not talk about that."

"Fine, fine, they're starting to move."

Their attention returned to the gathering, which started buzzing with activity. A truck appeared out from nowhere with a loud pop that even they could hear. From the looks of it, the Muggles in the vicinity could not. The people in the clearing drew their wands and began casting spells. Jen and Dimitri could make out a slight distortion in the omniculars.

"They're moving something, loading it in the truck," Jen muttered.

Dimitri cursed softly under his breath. "Concealment spells. Good ones too, we didn't even notice them."

"We're going to have to tail that truck," said Jen, watching as the men below levitated something onto the truck. "Would be so much easier with Anya here."

"She spoils us with her eye," Dimitri commented as the doors of the truck closed shut before it disappeared with another popping sound. "_Govno_… we're going to have them tail them across the whole of Britain aren't we?"

"And recce each of the locations they stop at," Jen sighed, climbing onto his feet as the men in the clearing disappeared as well. "We better move fast before the magical signatures fade away."

**XXXXX**

"Wow... Anne, you didn't have to do all this," said Harry gratefully, his hand holding the leftovers of their lunch in a take-away bag.

It was the best meal he had in summer so far, which was expected of when living with the Dursleys. He was pretty sure he would not be eating fish and chips of that standard until he got back to Hogwarts or if the Weasleys would ever invite him over.

"Small matter," said Anya tersely.

They had spent the meal talking about everyday things, like school life and summer homework. Then, the conversation took a hard turn when Anne started asking about their parents, something Harry was very glad to indulge her in. Most of what Harry knew came from the letters Sirius had sent him during the summer after his third year.

And from what it seemed - though maintaining a cool disposition - Anne did enjoy those stories, smiling appreciatively as Harry regaled her with stories of the Marauders' exploits. One particularly hilarious story involving Professor McGonagall and catnip actually had Anne laughing.

Harry had paused when he saw her laughing, it was different from all the other times where it sounded dry. This time, it seemed more like the radiant happiness he had glimpsed upon during the Third Task, it was genuine. His heart had soared with high hopes as he continued on talking about James and Lily, even until now when they were leaving the restaurant. This was what it should have been like. Smiles and laughter.

"Do you believe me?"

Harry's words caused the mood to take a sharp turn, but he wanted confirmation. The isolation had made him a little desperate, he would not deny that.

"About what?" asked Anya, raising an eyebrow.

"Voldemort, and him returning."

"Yes."

A smile crept up on Harry's face, leave it to Anne to believe him.

"Mom and dad," said Harry abruptly. "I saw them at the graveyard where I fought Voldemort, it was their ghosts... shadows."

He sneaked a glance at Anya and saw that she was looking into the distance, a strange look in her eyes.

"They spoke to me," Harry croaked. "Said they loved me and to look after you."

"They spoke about you too," Harry turned to face Anya. "They said that they-"

"Love me and that they are so proud of me."

Harry sucked in his breath when he heard those words, it was not a question, it was a statement. He stared hard at Anya who had now kept her eyes straight ahead and noticed her biting her lower lip, the movement was minute, barely noticeable but he caught it.

She slipped up.

Harry almost thought his heart stopped. She was there for Voldemort's resurrection, it was a wild idea but it had to be. There was simply no way she could have predicted Lily's words. But how?

For a moment, Harry panicked at the idea that she had been one of those masked Death Eaters in the circle but that could not be it. Voldemort was just recalling his old guard, the Death Eaters from the previous war. If that was the case, where was she?

It hit him hard like a rampaging hippogriff, she wielded a pistol that was likely real, which meant a possible familiarity in firearms and she had likely been present for Voldemort's resurrection. Three distant and unconfirmed assumptions, but they added up to form one unsettling possibility. Voldemort and the two dead Death Eaters. It was not a deus ex machina. It was Anne. Anne was there to provide a distraction, saving his life. Anne placed a bullet in between Voldemort's eyes. Anne killed two Death Eaters.

_Watch over Anne, will you? Because she is doing the same right now, for you._

Those words from his mother, the way she looked away in a certain direction, the way she looked at something as though it was there. A chill ran down his spine as goosebumps erupted all over him. It was too much of a coincidence, all of it. So many things that did not make sense and yet added up to unbelievable facts, it completely fitted Anne's modus operandi. Suddenly, his mother's words at the graveyard made so much sense, Anne really was watching over him.

"Anne... you... you..." Harry stuttered, trying and failing to articulate his words. "How?"

"Hmm? Did I guess right?" Anya tilted her head to appraise him coolly. "Mom and dad's words? It does sound like the usual warm parental words they would say."

Harry grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to face him. His face was a mixture of disbelief and shock, hers was blank.

"You... you were there, weren't you?" said Harry.

"There for what?" she replied, her face one of perfect confusion so believable Harry would have bought if he had not suspected otherwise.

"Anne, don't give me that," Harry scowled. "I saw Voldemort and two Death Eaters go down. People keep saying it was my wandless magic but I know better. It was you, wasn't it? It had to be you."

"And how exactly would I have been able to leave Hogwarts in the middle of a tournament I was participating? On top of that, how do I even take down Voldemort and two Death Eaters without being detected?"

"You're not denying it," Harry pointed out.

"There's nothing to deny in the first place," Anya snorted.

"Don't you trust me?" Harry tried a different approach.

"No."

"Why?"

A shrug. He always hated it when she shrugged. Harry groaned, feeling like he was losing the progress he had made with Anne. He did not know what to feel, happiness or anger, they were two polar emotions swirling within his gut. Anne alway had to be difficult. Harry sighed, opting for the simplest choice as he pulled Anya into a tight hug.

"Thanks for looking after me," he said softly. "Regardless of whether or not you were at Voldemort's resurrection."

"Glad I could please," Anya replied nonchalantly, pulling herself out from the hug as they continued down the street.

"I realised something," said Harry, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "You have nothing against me calling you Anne."

"Well..." Anya dragged out the word, tilting up her head in thought. "It's just the two of us and as I've said before, you deserve some chance."

Harry's face split into a wide smile. Progress. One bright ray of joy in this bleak grey summer. Anya caught his smile and a look flashed past her eyes, so brief Harry almost failed to catch it. Was it pity?

Choosing to ignore it, two twins settled down at a playground not to far from the Dursleys, sitting at the swings. For a moment, the two simply sat in silence, having dried out the stories Harry had gotten from Sirius. This time, Anya chose to break it. Her eyes were fixed at the general direction of the Dursleys.

"Your place is very well warded," Anya observed. "Blood wards of the highest quality, nobody would even be able to lay a scratch on you."

"What? Blood wards?" Harry sputtered. "At the Dursleys?"

Anya nodded, still staring in the distance. Her eye roved over the faraway houses as though she could see something, Harry simply did not have a clue to his sister's antics.

"What are blood wards?"

"Magical protection based on familial blood, one of the best magical protection a person can place on a home. I thought you knew."

"What? No, of course not," Harry said in surprise. "The Dursleys hate magic."

"Sirius passed you to Hagrid and he to Dumbledore, huh?" Anya mused. "I suppose Dumbledore's the one who placed those blood wards. Good use of our aunt, I guess."

The Dursleys house was under magical protection. That alone was a huge revelation to Harry, he could only imagine Vernon's purple face if he ever knew the freakishness that was placed on his house. Then again, it now made sense as to why Dumbledore had always insisted on him returning to the Dursleys each time. Once more, a sense of anger coursed through him as he was reminded that important information was purposely withheld from him.

"Credit to the headmaster," Anya nodded like a connoisseur savouring fine wine. "The wards are very good."

"Yet Dumbledore doesn't trust me enough to tell me this," Harry muttered bitterly. "Complete fucking bollocks."

Anya simply shrugged slightly, allowing him to continue.

"He doesn't have to go this far," Harry spat out angrily. "He could have told me something, anything. Even Sirius, Ron and Hermione restrict what they tell me. I'm safe for Merlin's sake!"

"No you're not," Anya countered softly. "If I was actually carrying out the contract that day, you would have been dead by the roadside with a bullet through your head.

Harry gaped blankly at Anya, shocked by her words. "But the blood wards- "

"Are only effective if you stay within boundaries."

"Are you telling me to stay in the house?" said Harry indignantly.

"No," Anya replied calmly. "You already have bodyguards and I have no responsibility over you aside from some obligation from Sirius, you do whatever you want."

"Are you serious?" Harry chuckled. "Wait, obligation from Sirius?"

"Yep," said Anya, popping the 'p'. "He told me what he told you, watch over your twin."

"Is that why you're here?" Harry asked, wondering if she was here on Dumbledore's orders as well.

"One part of it," said Anya. "Other part is that I thought it'd be nice. After all, I'll be leaving Britain after I get my OWLs, might as well take the chance, you know?"

The declaration was a bombshell and the silence deafening. Harry's jaw dropped into a wide 'O' as he stared at Anya. A minute went by before Harry could feel his jaw again, pulling at the muscles frozen by frigid disbelief. Harry ended up gaping at his sister, it had almost become an annoying habit but he could not help it.

"Leaving!?" Harry exclaimed. "You're leaving!?"

Anya nodded, hopping off the swing and brushing off the imaginary dust on her pants. "Yeah, I'm just here for my OWLs and it's likely back to Russia for me."

"But... but..." Harry leapt onto his feet as well, staring at Anya. "Why?"

"It's the only reason I came to Britain and Hogwarts in the first place," Anya explained. "Get the OWLs from Hogwarts and that's all."

Harry knew he should not be surprised, but he still was. He had been expecting her to stay up till the NEWTs before she even began talking about returning back to Russia. Suddenly, the vague warning she gave him during their first meeting made so much more sense, just that he misinterpreted it.

"Why not take the NEWTs as well?" Harry asked, a little too desperately for the question to be one of curiosity. "Why do you have to go back to Russia for your NEWTs?"

"I'm not taking NEWTs at all, Russia or Britain," said Anya. "In fact, these two years in Hogwarts will be the only time I actually go to a school."

"You've never been to school!?" Harry gasped. Why did she always have to drop bombshells after bombshells?

"Taught at home by my family."

"Then why did you even come to Hogwarts?"

"Gringotts inheritance," explained Anya, checking her belongings before starting to leave. "Because of some rule our grandmother made, I needed an OWL level education in Hogwarts to inherit."

"Gringotts inheritance?" Harry repeated.

"Ummhmm," Anya hummed as confirmation. "I'm entitled to half of the Potter fortune if I get my OWLs from Hogwarts."

"That's why you came?" Harry asked.

"Just said it didn't I?" Anya snorted in amusement as she turned to walk down the street. "I have places to go, see you soon."

"Must you leave?" Harry called after her. "Can't you stay here in Britain?"

Anya looked back and gave a small smile before shaking her head.

"This isn't home."

"Home is where the family is," Harry pleaded.

"Exactly."

Harry deflated, realising that he was not the only family in Anne's life. He remembered her visitors during the lunch before the Fourth Task. The smile and look of joyous surprise she wore when they came stirred envy within him.

"Goodbye," Harry muttered, waving to Anya sadly. Anya replied with a curt nod and walked away, turning around a corner and out of sight.

**XXXXX**

"Ah, it's a great pleasure to have you here Mr Seryy," Cyrus Greengrass shook the hand of Aleksandr who had just stepped out from the fireplace.

The lanky Russian shifted aside to make way for Anya who arrived shortly, stepping out from the green flames. Astoria gave her a cheery wave from the back, Daphne acknowledging her with a nod.

While Cyrus talked with Aleks, Astoria noticed Anya taking the opportunity to acquaint herself with her surroundings. The manor she lived in was opulent but not overly so to be considered gaudy. Rather than the gilded decorations and marble one would come to expect from the wealthy Purebloods, especially those of nobility, the manor had walls and floor made of rich dark oak. Lighter shades of wood were applied tastefully to create an elegant contrast in the hall.

Ornate carvings were few, instead, the sense of opulence came from spacious ceilings and the gentle curves of the walls and pillars. Oddly enough, Astoria could pick up a hint of familiarity in Anya's eyes as she observed her home. Maybe Anya's home back in Russia had a similar style. Another thing to note down.

Wood was a good choice compared to the marble, stone and gold, in Astoria's opinion. Under sufficient lighting, it gave off an air of warmth unlike the cold vibes that emanated from marble and metal whenever she visited the manors of other affluent Purebloods.

"Likewise, Mr Greengrass," Aleks replied calmly. "I do believe we have much to discuss."

"Astoria, do show your friend around the place. After all, you are the one who invited them," said Cyrus genially. "Daphne, let mother know that Mr Seryy and I will be in the sitting room."

Both girls nodded before the older one turned to leave the hall, giving Anya one final nod as she walked away, presumably to find her mother. Anya tilted her head at Astoria, giving her the cue to lead the way.

"Your place looks nice," Anya commented.

"It is," Astoria nodded. "But a little boring."

"Whinging," Anya smirked.

"Oh please," Astoria glared at her, though her gaze lacked any real heat. "That's not real whinging, it was only a comment."

Astoria led her around, from the locked basement where her father supposedly kept the family secrets to the attic which provided a sweeping view of the fields yonder. Despite her constant complaints of her home back in Hogwarts, she still showed and explained the various places of her home with unrestrained glee. She could see Anya smiling all the way, a rare sight back in Hogwarts. Astoria knew full well her bubbly personality endeared herself to Anya.

"So what do you think your uncle and my father are talking about?" Astoria leaned in to ask her conspiratorially as she began to lead Anya to the gardens.

"I'm happier off not knowing," Anya shrugged. "But instead of theorising the possible dry topics going on in the sitting, tell me what are those? Or rather, why are they here?"

Astoria nodded in agreement before following Anya's finger which was pointing towards the trees around the garden. She soon caught sight of a bunch of moving twigs meandering about the branches of the trees.

"Oh, bowtruckles," she explained. "Father likes to keep trees with wand quality wood. Naturally, the bowtruckles come along with the trees, they supposedly protect the tree from pests."

"Your gardens are huge," Anya noted. "Why do you even get bored?"

"Please," Astoria rolled her eyes. "They haven't changed in thirteen years and I'm hardly allowed to wander far into the gardens. It's usually just staying indoors for me."

"Just reading, arts and lessons from father and mother," Astoria shrugged. "What do you use to do back at your home?"

She cast a sideways glance at Anya, wondering how much information she was going to reveal this time. She already had a vague idea about Anya's life from the various hints she had picked up observing her at Hogwarts. From her speech to her habits and to her subconscious actions, she noted all of them down. Then, she would spend time theorising just who Anya was, usually during the most appropriate time: History of Magic class. Whatever it was, she knew Anya did not have the same childhood as others. She was much too wary and cautious

"Wander around town, read, shoot, play around with runes, watch TV," Anya listed down her day to day activities, still watching the bowtruckles go about hunting the insects encroaching on the trees.

It did not sound like childhood trauma, but that just meant she was hiding something as usual. Astoria chose to nod, inwardly proud that she knew what a TV was. Her time spent with Anya had taught her plenty about the Muggle world that her parents had spoken against. In fact, the Muggle Studies textbook she had bought was a wealth of information on its own, explaining so much about the Muggle world. The book had went in great depth explaining Muggle photography and cinematography, its technical details and cultural impact.

However, there were glaring problems that Astoria could easily notice. The entire syllabus was written by Muggleborns - rightly so - resulting in blood purists boycotting them. That was just a fraction of the problem, Muggle Studies was just not popular in general. Purebloods just relied on Muggleborns and Half-bloods to deal with Muggle-related matters and the Muggleborns and Half-bloods themselves simply did not bother with that subject unless they were looking for an easy grade - something Astoria suspected Anya of doing - or were looking to specialise in Wizarding-Muggle relations and legislations. The latter seldom bore fruit simply because any new concepts relating to Muggles had to survive the gauntlet that was the Wizengamot.

Something just did not sit right with her life and the world she was living in. However, she shoved those secondary thoughts aside, choosing to focus on enjoying herself. She dragged Anya back into the manor, leading her to one of the many pianos scattered about the manor.

"Have you played the piano before?" Astoria asked as she lifted the fallboard.

"Yeah."

"Nice," Astoria grinned. "Play something for me."

Anya lifted her eyebrows in amusement.

"Anything," Astoria pleaded. "Your best or favourite piece."

Anya obliged, settling herself down and resting her fingers on the keys. Her shoulders rised as she took in a deep breath and when it fell, so did the keys. A low chord reverberated through the air for a few seconds before Anya began to move her fingers once more. The notes started to fall and Astoria could slowly pick out the tune and rhythm. Slow and fast, fast and slow. Astoria recalled the name of the piece.

_A Divinator's Sonata_, by Maximilian Malfoy, late 1750s if she recalled her mother's lessons correctly. Astoria perked up with intrigue when she heard the piece. One more point towards being Pureblood, she had been keeping tabs on the 'scores' for Anya based on her behaviour. Pureblood, Half-blood and Muggleborn, she had created a reliable profiling during her first year in Hogwarts.

The piece Anya was playing was popular among the Purebloods and hardly heard of from the Half-bloods and Muggleborns. Re-tabulating the scores in her head, Astoria pouted internally, the high Half-blood score was expected but the roughly equal scores of Pureblood and Muggleborn was annoyingly cryptic. Then again, that was what she had initially enjoyed about Anya.

When the final notes died off, Astoria gave a small round of applause, cheering softly but enthusiastically.

"Another one?" Astoria grinned.

"How about we take turns?" Anya countered.

Astoria nodded in agreement and Anya gave up the seat to her, Astoria placed her fingers on the keyboard and immediately began playing as though it was her second nature. All the lessons she had been given had to be worth something after all.

Once again, music filled the air as her fingers danced deftly around the ivory keys. _Chaconne in F minor_, Muggle in origins but it still made headway into Pureblood circles.

"I thought you alway felt bored at home," Anya jibed. "You look like you're having fun."

"Some things are just better shared others," Astoria replied cheerily.

From the corner of her eye, Astoria could make out a strange look in Anya. A spark in her eye that danced about deeply and slowly. There were a few times she caught that look, but she had yet to figure it out.

"Very true," Anya chuckled.

They took turns playing, talking like they did on the streets of London. All topics were free to bring up and Astoria savoured the unrestricted nature of the conversation, it was something she had grown to enjoy and love from Anya's company, maybe Zabini and Nott too which could possibly be the reason her sister dated one of them.

Slowly, the two expended all the songs they knew. Astoria played only the pieces Purebloods knew while Anya had a more varied though less skilled repertoire. The two walked past the sitting room where they noticed that various privacy spells were active, Cyrus and Aleks were still discussing politics.

"How about we go to my room?" said Astoria.

The question became more of a statement when Astoria began walking up the stairs to her room without looking back. Astoria had briefly showed Anya her room during the tour, so there was less looking around on Anya's part.

"Want to help me with my homework?" Astoria asked jokingly, nodding towards the scrolls of parchment on her desk.

Anya simply snorted, turning her attention to the books adorning the shelves. Astoria bounded towards her bed, landing on her belly as she reached into a nearby drawer to pull out a deck of Exploding Snap.

"Cards?" Astoria held up the deck for Anya to see, smiling brightly.

Straight away, Astoria saw that strange look in Anya, the slow spark in her eyes. A peculiar smile flashed by so fast Astoria could have sworn it was a trick of the light. Blinking, Astoria looked at Anya once more and saw the usual amused smile on her lips.

"Sure," said Anya, settling herself down on the bed as well.

**XXXXX**

Anya waved goodbye to the Greengrass family, trailing behind Aleks. Astoria unwillingly bade her farewell, though she still maintained her boundless joy. Daphne had been the cold and calculating person she was famed in Hogwarts for, giving her a curt nod. Cyrus and Isabel Greengrass were in the middle, friendly but calculating nonetheless. The entire family was sharp and Anya could tell despite their low profile they were still a force to be reckoned with.

"Mr Seryy, I do hope to further discuss more matters with you," said Cyrus. "They were very enlightening."

"Likewise, Mr Greengrass."

Aleks threw the Floo powder into the fires and muttered his destination before disappearing.

"And Ms Seryy."

Anya turned and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Do visit again as well, I'm sure Astoria would be glad."

Anya gave a slight bow before stepping into the green flames of the fireplace, spinning as the Floo sent her away. She stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and increased her pace to catch up with Aleks who was leaving the establishment and into Muggle London.

"Anything I should know?" Anya probed.

"Greengrass will be cooperative," said Aleks, casting a Notice-Me-Not Charm instinctively. "Not sympathetic or allied yet, but it's a start. Your warm relationship with the younger Greengrass helped a lot in breaking the tension and establishing good rapport, Cyrus Greengrass cares very much for his children."

"That good," Anya muttered lazily, her right eye focusing on the faint reflection on the windscreen of a parked car beside them, allowing her to check their rear for anyone tailing them without turning around.

"Speaking of the younger Greengrass, I can see why you enjoy her company so much."

"Can you now?" Anya replied sardonically.

"Reminds me of her," Aleks glanced at her direction, observing her demeanor.

Anya kept a cool mask on her, edging closely to frosty.

"But she's not her," said Aleks, his words sounding like a reminder. "You can't replace her now, can you?"

"No," Anya murmured softly, pausing for a moment. "She's not."

Slowly, she bit her lip, hard. Aleks was slightly surprised that it did not bleed.

"No one can ever replace her."


	26. Chapter 26 - A Leg Up

**AN: Just maybe, I'll aim for a bi-weekly schedule?**

* * *

Chapter 26 - A Leg Up

Flash. Thunder. The sky lit up for a brief moment as the bolt of lightning illuminated the stormy clouds and terraced buildings. Two men slipped past the streets and alleyways, moving through the crowds of umbrellas with unnatural ease.

Their eyes flickered overhead just in time to see the two blurring men in MLE-grade Nimbus 1500 sweeping by in tight formation. The model was old despite its Magical Law Enforcement specifications, but then again, old is gold and the department lacked gold. Averting their attention back onto their path, the pair slipped through the last of the crowds and into a deserted alleyway.

The prickling sensation on the back of their necks cued the presence of a Muggle-Repelling ward. Lurking there were two wizards in midnight blue robes, Russian Aurors. The Russians nodded towards their khaki-robed counterparts in greeting.

"Evening," one of the Russians murmured without a trace of accent. "Your backups?"

"I've got two Hit Wizards circling the skies for reconnaissance," one of the British replied. "MLEP are on standby, a Protean Charm relay will call them up at a moment's notice. Other than that, it's just the two us here on the ground."

"Of course," the Russian acquiesced. "Two British Aurors are all that is needed. Stanning and Rowlan, am I right?"

"Aye," the other British confirmed. "Skip the pleasantries and let's get this done. Curse this rain."

"No need to rush, Rowlan," said the earlier British. "We have plenty of time."

Ignoring the grumbling of his partner, Stanning turned back to the Russian.

"You have the intel?"

Stanning could swear that behind the standard black mask of the Russian Aurors, the man was smirking.

"Of course," the Russian responded, handing him a length of rope.

Stanning took the rope, passing the other end of it to his partner. He did not need anyone to tell him that it was a portkey, but the fact that it was possibly unauthorised was slightly disconcerting. Not that he cared.

The portkey took them away in a familiar pull and the two British Aurors found themselves in an apartment overlooking a canal. They could see the occasional boat floating along with the current, but other than that, the place was deserted. Stanning would wager that they were a few miles off from the town centre, far from prying eyes.

Two cracking sounds appeared beside them and the British Aurors had their wands out in an instant, aiming at the source. The two Russian Aurors appeared unconcerned at the wands aiming squarely at their chest, merely walking over to the window and pointing at the canal.

"We got a tip off," one of the Russian Aurors stated. "Possible Black Mark shipment traveling down the canal, we can expect them in thirty minutes."

The two British Aurors gave each other a hungry grin and nodded. They went to work immediately, setting up subtle Muggle-Repelling wards and detection charms. Ten minutes flat and they had cordoned off a portion of the canal for their assault. The Russians provided aid, adding wards of their own. In the short time Stanning had worked with the Russians, he had noticed that Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards were a priority and speciality among Russian Magical Law Enforcement personnel. It clashed frequently with the British operating procedures which favoured having the access of magical transportation for quick repositioning and flanking in an coordinated effort that would trump over opponents.

Not that Stanning was complaining, rapid outmanoeuvre tactics normally required a full team. With just Rowlan and him, as well as the Russians who were unfamiliar with their training, locking down all forms of magical transportation seemed like a sound plan. Magical transportation would only aid their quarry in this case. If only the people down in the Department of Mysteries would come up with a way to selectively disable magical transportation, now that would be a huge game changer.

With the wards and charms done, the Aurors contented themselves to waiting. They had all done that before, patience was essential in capturing a quarry. Rowlan gave a few protests against the lack of any trap spells, but keeping the area free of heavy magic was important lest they be detected before the ambush was sprung.

True to the Russian's word, a lonely barge made its way into their view within half an hour. It was their target, no Muggle vessel would be sputtering across the water in long bangs like a demented nautical version of the Knight Bus, blinking forward in leaps of fifty yards every moment or so.

Stanning tugged at his dragonhide gear in a form of reassurance, nodding to his compatriots. Rowlan waved his wand about and began a long incantation, a swirl of magic slowly rising in the air as the waters around the barge began sloshing about into the vessel. The Russians were missing when Stanning threw a sideways glance, Stanning ignored it, the Russians had their own operating procedures. Aiming his wand at the barge, Stanning summoned every once of his energy.

"_Finite Incantatem_! _Fulgur Maxima_!"

The first spell dispelled any standard protection charms before arcs of lightning flew from the tip of his wand towards the drenched vessel, hopefully knocking out the majority of the opposition. Vaulting out from the building and casting a Cushioning Charm on the ground, Stanning landed and tumbled on the ground before dashing for the canal. He made it just in time to see a whirlpool locking the barge in place, Rowlan never had it for quick spells but in the case of long incantation spells, he had it in spades. Grinning to himself, Stanning threw a Homenum Revelio to get a sense of the situation. Five targets, no big deal, more than half would likely be down from his initial spell.

A sprint towards the edge of the canal walls, a leap and a levitation charm to extend the jump distance. Stanning landed onto the barge, steadying himself on the rocking boat and keeping his wand up at the ready.

One hooded figure climbed out from a latch and Stanning hit him in between the eyes with a Stunning Spell. One down, four more to go. Heading over to the latch, he jumped down and cast a preemptive Shield Charm. A curse smashed against the Shield Charm and Stanning tumbled aside towards the interior walls of the barge, dodging the second curse.

"_Bombarda_!"

His spell sent a plume of metal and dust into the confined space. Twirling his wand around, he conjured several knives and banished them into the cloud of dust. A thud and grunt confirmed a hit and Stanning cleared the dust with a wave of his wand. Many of the knives were embedded in the metal walls of the barge, water seeping through. In front of him lay an unconscious man, a pool of blood forming around the knife stuck in his gut.

Stanning rushed over to cast a Stasis Spell on the wound, stopping the blood loss, before proceeding to release several Stunners for good measure. Taking note of his surroundings, he proceeded to sweep the rest of the vessel.

To his relief, the other three targets were decommissioned from his initial lightning spell. Binding them up with a simple _Incarcerous_, Stanning headed back to the surface of the barge, waving Rowlan over. The wards were dropped and Rowlan apparated over, appearing beside him.

"How many?"

"Five men."

"Not enough," Rowlan shook his head.

"Let's judge that once we find out what this ship is all about," Stanning said reassuringly.

Waving his wand, he vanished the tarpaulin stretched across the cargo bay of the barge. The cargo bay revealed itself to contain heaps of dry grain, but Stanning and Rowlan were both unperturbed. A second wave of their wand began vanishing away the grain. Rowlan struck gold when one of his Vanishing Spells finally revealed literal gold, galleons.

"We struck it good, lad," Rowlan grinned.

Stanning gave a chuckle of his own as they continued vanishing the rest of the unnecessary grain. Their spirits rose higher as more was revealed. Wands, poisons and cursed items. The Russians were right, there really was one big Black Mark shipment.

"Daily Prophet going to have a big day ain't it?" Rowlan chuckled hoarsely.

"So are we."

"Aye, true there."

Out of nowhere, Stanning sensed a presence behind them. Whirling around, he levelled his wand to find the Russian Aurors standing there listlessly, their blank black masks peering at them.

"Finally showed up now, have ya?" Rowlan snorted as he threw a quick glance before turning back to the Black Mark cargo.

"We were confident in your abilities," one of the Russians shrugged. "British Aurors don't play around after all, not many can lock a ship down with a whirlpool."

"And what were you guys doing?" Stanning asked.

"Securing the area in the event of enemy reinforcements," the Russian explained. "Besides that, what did you guys find?"

Rowlan gave the Russians a crooked smile, gesturing to the galleons and goods.

"Plenty."

The Russians made their way over to get a better view of the items, casting spells of their own to ensure the authenticity of the items. One of them hopped down into the cargo bay of the barge, riffling through the contents. He motioned his partner over and Stanning watched curiously as they began conversing in hushed Russian, effectively staving them out from the conversation.

"Anything interesting?" he inquired.

"Information for our end," the Russian grunted.

"Anything that concerns us?"

The Russian shook his head, giving the items a final glance before walking away, his partner behind him.

"That's our job done here," the Russian gave the British a curt nod. "Your part begins now, just remember what to do."

The British Aurors watched as the Russians disapparated away, leaving him behind. Stanning turned back to the cargo bay heaving a sigh of relief and satisfaction, he faced Rowlan and gave him a nod. Rowlan proceeded to take out a set of token, magically inscribing letters on them.

"Signal sent," Rowlan grunted. "The lads should be up here soon."

"Great," Stanning nodded. "Things are turning out well, don't you say."

"Definitely."

**XXXXX**

_Daily Prophet_

_Largest bust on Black Mark thus far_

_In what has been the greatest blow towards the Black Mark, British Aurors have seized a large Black Mark shipment of illegal goods as well as galleons totaling up to three thousand._

_Analysts from both British and Russian Magical Law Enforcement have concluded that the shipment was one of the many criminal supplies and merchandise snuck out from Russia when the syndicate had left Russia to evade prosecution. Illegal goods included poisons, volatile potions, cursed objects and wands that were most definitely meant for malicious intent._

_Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour has emphasised the big impact of intercepting this big shipment of illegal goods._

_"What our Aurors here have done had probably saved Britain from a year's worth of despair. The gold and items that the Black Mark were planning on using, providing or selling would have the potential for sustaining long lasting crime and terrorism. All of us here owe our lives to the Aurors watching over us."_

_And in this case, the credit belonged to two British Aurors that Britain owed a good night's sleep for. Isaac Stanning and Andrew Rowlan, who were the only Aurors in a regular all-British DMLE patrol caught the shipment of Black Mark goods in the middle of its journey. Despite lacking the backup from the Hit Wizards and MLEP attached to the patrol who were elsewhere, both men seized the opportunity and bravely assaulted the vessel used by the Black Mark, capturing five Black Mark members in the process._

_"It was an at the moment decision," explained Auror Isaac Stanning. "We all learned this from our BAT (Basic Auror Training), there will be times when you just have to rush in without support because that's the only window you get, no time for hesitation. Rowlan and I spotted it (the Black Mark shipment) and we knew there wasn't enough time to call for backup, the only thing we could rely on was our training and skills."_

_Continued on page 3_

**XXXXX**

Stanning walked out to the lobby of the Ministry, savouring the looks of admiration that the people were giving him. More importantly, he savoured the promotion he and Rowlan were given for the deeds done. It was a huge jump as an Auror Sergeant to be fast tracked into the MLE Officer Course. The promotion came just in time for the next batch of cadets to enter in a week. In three months, he would be fresh from the course as an Auror Lieutenant. And if things kept on going, he would hopefully attain the rank of Captain by the next summer. Rowlan jumped from Lieutenant to Captain already.

Amelia Bones did protest to the rapid promotion, saying that one exemplary job was not grounds for such a jump and that he and Rowlan did break protocol by not reporting the situation and calling for reinforcements when the Black Mark shipment was sighted. However, Scrimgeour always protected his Aurors when they did a good job and the people loved a hero. Bones relented and the promotion was approved. An entire Auror Section at his disposal, the promotion tasted so sweet.

Heading to the designated Apparition point, Stanning twisted on the spot and disapparated, ending up in the outskirts of Dover. Walking for a good distance, he disapparated once more to Portsmouth. This process repeated until he was sure he was not followed. The final stop ended up in Edinburgh, Stanning looked at the unassuming, squat office building in front of him.

Crossing the street filled with the humdrum movement of traffic, he entered the building. Several flights of stairs took him to the top floor of the building, the elevator seemed to be nowhere in sight. He looked around at the glances thrown at him by the people there. He was an outsider, no doubt about that. At the end of the hallway was a room, a dark oaken door awaited him.

Stanning did not hesitate and he made his way confidently to the door, giving two soft knocks. A crisp, clear and commanding voice answered the knock.

"Enter."

One word, and Stanning could tell this man garnered more respect than the current British Minister. It suited him perfectly, he did not wish to follow weak men. Stanning turned the knob and opened the door, taking a step in and closing it behind him. He surveyed the room, it was simple and pragmatic. Books, documents and magical equipment, very much unlike the lavish decor he had seen in many of the offices in the Ministry.

The man seated behind the table was looking at him expectantly. He had streaks of grey in his otherwise dark hair, he stature was unimpressive, slouching on his seat. But behind the square glasses were dark eyes that appeared to peer into souls, a gleam of clever wit and viciousness danced ever so wildly in the pupils. From a distance, Stanning could tell that this man would not seem like much but conversing with him up close would be a whole different story.

"Hello," Stanning spoke first.

"A pleasure to see you too," the man gestured to the seat in front of him. He reached for the bottle by the table and poured two generous amounts of amber liquid into glasses, pushing one to Stanning. "Scotch?"

"Muggle liquor?" Stanning raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What's the occasion?"

"A small gift," the man smiled. "In the Muggle news, Edinburgh and St Petersburg just became sister cities recently and this was a small token of goodwill from the Scots."

Stanning took the glass, mentally noting down another of the man's eccentricities.

"I heard you have been promoted, your thoughts?"

"Power feels good," Stanning chuckled. "And I suppose I owe you more than just a thanks. You held your end of the bargain very well, what do I do now?"

"Network."

"Please elaborate," Stanning took a sip of the Scotch.

"You'll be entering the MLE Officer Course soon," the man explained. "A new generation of officers for the British Magical Law Enforcement, build relations, find like minded or sympathetic people, network."

"Very well," Stanning drained the last of the liquor, setting it back down on the table. "Once I do my end, what next?"

"Once you do your end," said the man. "I'll see to it you attain the rank of Captain this time next year."

"A sound deal," Stanning smiled. "Anything for me?"

The man took out a folder and passed it to Stanning.

"These will be your fellow cadets in the MLE Officer Course, do take time to know them well before networking. That will be all for the time being, we can meet up another time or I'll send the usual contacts."

Stanning stood up from his seat, taking his leave.

"It's good working with you, Leo."

**XXXXX**

"Really now, Vergilius, a tour around Europe? Why in Merlin's name would you do that?"

Vergilius suppressed a sigh as he methodically packed his luggage, folding and arranging all the items he would need for the journey.

"Like I said mother," said Vergilius. "I need to clear my head, and I feel that taking a jaunt outside Britain would do just that."

"Then I'm glad," Vergilius could see the wan smile on his mother's face in the mirror. "It's about time you started growing up and acted your status. Why did you even work at the Ministry your father and I could never figure out. Wasting all that time in a fixed job like some common peasant where instead you could-"

"Mother, save that talk for when I return shall we?" Vergilius plastered a small smile on his face.

"Of course, your father would like to see you off. And your brother too I expect."

Vergilius cringed inwardly, he had hoped to leave without seeing his father at all. Shutting his suitcase, he picked it up and made his way down the stairs of the manor. At the door stood his father, tall, proud and scornful. He loomed over Vergilius, inspecting him for something. Finally, he opened the door and gave him a curt nod.

"About time, son. Seven years late, but at least you scraped up some form of dignity. I remember touring Europe myself when I just graduated from Hogwarts, that's how I met your mother."

His father handed him a letter, Vergilius took it and inspected it, looking at the seal of his house.

"What's this?"

"A list of courts and noble families I would like you to visit to build connections and a list of eligible ladies, it is about time you get married."

"Of course," Vergilius slid the letter into his coat. "Will that be all father?"

"You are expected to act according to your status and stop bringing shame to the family name. Hopefully, by the time you returned, you would have gained enough sense to stop sinking so low as to work in the Ministry. They serve us, not the other way around."

"Understood," Vergilius grunted, stepping out of the manor.

"Goodbye, brother!" a younger carbon copy of himself waved at him with a graceful smile. "Safe travels!"

Vergilius raised a hand in return before apparating to London, he headed over to a small run-down building, walking down the bombed streets. It was just a few blocks away from the Ministry, and as Vergilius stepped through it, he was greeted with a lively sight. Wizards and witches milled about, their skin and clothing from all corners of the world. Rows of benches lined up in front of multiple counters. Above the counters was a gigantic world map, lines and dots appearing and disappearing

Vergilius paid attention to the large boards flanking the map. Levitating chalks and dusters roamed over the board, erasing and updating lines of information. His eyes honed in on the board with the word 'Departure' written on the top. Slowly he filtered down the lines until he reached 'London-Athens: 14:00 Bay 3'. No hitches in the schedule.

Making his way past the counters where there were queues for tickets, he reached the security checkpoint. A Sneakoscope stood listlessly at a corner of the checkpoint, a guard holding a Secrecy Sensor began sweeping over Vergilius and his luggage. The device began humming when it passed over his neck, causing raised eyebrows.

"Anything to declare there?" one of the guards asked, his arm reaching for his wand.

"Nothing of your concern really," said Vergilius coolly. "But since it's for the sake of security."

He reached his hand to high-collared robes, pulling the collar down to reveal a mark. The guards all jerked back and stood at attention, save for one young guard who looked in confusion.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing at all, sir. You're clear, you may proceed. Your ticket?"

Vergilius passed the guard his prearranged ticket, who examined it swiftly.

"Once you're past immigration, Bay 3 is just down that hallway, second door on the left," the guard pointed as he passed Vergilius back his ticket.

"Thank you."

"Oh, it's nothing really. An honour to serve."

Vergilius checked his pocket watch, twenty minutes to spare. A quick stamping of his passport and Vergilius followed the guard's directions. Entering the mentioned door, he was greeted with benches once more, one on each side of the room. There were already a few people there waiting. Ignoring the armchairs reserved for the aristocracy, he sat down on the benches and waited patiently.

When it was approaching two o'clock, a wizard in a pinstriped uniform brought a length of rope and tied it to poles in the middle of the room, between the benches. Everyone stood up and made their way to the rope, grabbing onto it. A large gong sounded, signalling two o'clock and Vergilius felt the sensation of a hook pulling his navel.

In a whirling blink of an eye, Vergilius ended up in another room, this one without benches and a different decor on the walls. Looking around, he was the only one firmly planted on his feet, the others were stumbling on the spot. Exiting the room, he could see the sign at the end of the hallway.

Καλως ηρθες στην ΕΛΛΑΔΑ

Welcome to Greece

He took out the letter his father had passed him, skimming the lines written on it before setting it ablaze with his wand. Stretching his arms, picking up his suitcase and heaving a big breath, he made his way out of the building, squinting at the Mediterranean sun. And so began his tour.

Naturally, he chose to start in Greece, the supposed cradle of European civilisation. A quick check in at a Muggle hotel to drop his suitcase and he was off. The Acropolis and the various temples within - both Muggle and Wizarding - grabbed his interest. From there he made his way west, dropping by Delphi to visit the famed Oracle of Delphi.

Once he had his fill of Greece, he journeyed further west to Italy, the roots of the renowned Roman Empire. After all, his name Vergilius came from the Romans, it was only respectful to add Rome into his travel itinerary. And magic, the magic that Europe had used were grounded on Latin, the language of the Romans. With his love for the inner workings of magic, Vergilius was never going to skip out on visiting Rome and one of Wizarding Europe's greatest libraries, the Vatican Apostolic Library. Unbeknownst to the Muggles, there were entire sections hidden away and magically expanded to include various tomes on magic collected from around the world. Vergilius spent a full week in the library, reading up book after book, glad that his status had granted him access.

Following that was a trip to Urbino, the library there was on par with the Vatican, but the remnants of the magical mercenary company stationed there were the true attraction for Vergilius. They were ceremonial now, a far cry from the golden days of the Renaissance under the helm of Federico da Montefeltro, whose true success aside from his strategic genius was his core of wizarding shock troops - never mentioned in the Muggle history books - that were never matched by any other _condottieri_ who employed wizards.

Within the magical district of Urbino just outside the Ducal Palace, he watched two ceremonial mercenaries standing at attention by the door to the magical portion of the Ducal Palace. The rest of Europe's Aurors and Hit Wizards were modelled from them, dragonhide gear, a standardised set of healing potions and a backup wand. Tactics of volley casting, offensive Apparition and pure wizarding shock units also came from them. Wizards whose role in the battlefield was once defensive in nature, providing support to the unit of Muggle soldiers he was attached to, turned into an offensive nature, forming a team solely made of wizards to utilise Apparition to wholesale outflank the enemy before laying down a barrage of spells. The Urbino wizards ushered forth what was now considered modern wizarding warfare, especially so when the International Statute of Secrecy was implemented in 1692, cutting off any joint warfare with Muggles.

Nearly two hundred years since the last war where wizards and Muggles fought together, ending with the Battle of Barfleur where Charles the Mad set ablaze the French ships with Fiendfyre. And more than four hundred years since the peak of the Urbino mercenaries where modern wizarding warfare was based from. In fact, the Wizarding world had yet to be involved in an international conflict since the Nine Years' War.

Vergilius knew the Muggles have changed plenty in these centuries, pike and shot of the Renaissance have changed to rifles and machine guns. Having never taken Muggle Studies, Vergilius listened to the debates that took place in the corridors of the Ministry as to whether or not these advancements in Muggle technology were dangerous. Since Muggleborns were prohibited from participating in the front lines, Vergilius knew that there was no clear view on the capabilities of Muggle warfare. France was next on his itinerary and the front lines of the Muggle war would be his destination.

Vergilius knew that the ICW had marked out the Muggle front lines as a prohibited zone, but he had no qualms about sneaking in. In fact, sneaking past the shoddy wards had been set up was exceedingly easy. They acted more as a deterrent than an actual way to prevent intruding wizards and it was part of Vergilius' job and skillset to excel at infiltration. In fact, it took Vergilius by surprise when a strong _Finite Incantatem_ was able to erase off the majority of the wards before he had to start using more refined methods of cracking the wards. An escape portkey as a safety precaution and Vergilius began trekking through the hills that would take him to the battlefield.

Even from a distance away, Vergilius could feel and hear the rumble of what he could only assume to be cannons. Cresting the ridge he was trekking up, Vergilius widened his eyes in shock as the sight before him. The entire land before him looked dead, as though death itself had graced the soil with its touch, giving blight to the land. There was no grass, only churned mud and what little trees that were if were withered and blackened. In the distance, Vergilius could make out trenches snaking around the land, linking up to form a vast network. He could see the explosions peppering the trenches, great heaps of dirt flying into the air. But what befuddled him was the absence of any cannons.

"Halt, who goes there?"

A gruff voice broke his concentration and he looked around to see a rugged Muggle soldier aiming a rifle at him.

"You're a soldier?" Vergilius eyed him with great curiosity.

"You're in no position to ask questions here," the soldier barked. "You a spy?"

"_Imperio_."

Vergilius watched as the soldier's eyes glazed over before jerking up as if he had just woken up.

"Sir," the soldier snapped into attention, giving Vergilius a salute.

Vergilius waved off the salute, ordering him to come over. The soldier complied, kneeling on the soil beside him and watching over the battlefield.

"Who are you? What are you doing over here?" Vergilius asked.

"Private Lewis Scott from the 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers, Charlie Company, sir," the Muggle replied. "I'm doing a routine patrol."

"Explain to me what's going on here," Vergilius pointed to the trenches in the distance.

"Enemy bombardment, sir."

"Then where are the enemy cannons?" Vergilius asked, trying to spot the bronze-coloured tubes of metal as they were depicted in the books he had seen. "I can't see any of them."

"Oh, you won't be able to, sir," the Muggle chuckled. "The Fritz have their field guns hidden behind the hills away from sight."

"That hill over there?" Vergilius pointed at one of the many hills over the area.

"Wouldn't know, sir," the man shrugged. "If we did, our 18-pounders would have already been firing away at their location. But it's a possibility."

"That must be what? At least four kilometres away," Vergilius squinted, gauging the distance. "And without a line of sight? How is that even possible? Much too far."

"Four kilometres is nothing for a field gun, sir," the soldier laughed. "They can fire up to eight kilometres without a problem. They don't need to see you, they just need to know your location."

Vergilius looked at the man incredulously before staring back at the battlefield in disbelief. The damage dealt was no surprise to Vergilius, he did not doubt that he could muster up the same destruction with Fiendfyre and some explosive spells, the famed Albus Dumbledore could probably do more. But the range, the range was the information that shocked Vergilius to the core. No duelling spell in the world had a range of eight kilometres and the Muggles did this without magic.

He knew he was crazy but he had to see this up close. Casting a Notice-Me-Not Charm on himself he ordered the soldier to guide him to the trenches, casting Confundus Charms on anyone who stopped them. The earth beneath him shook as the shells fell around him. Vergilius grimaced, it had been too long since the Wizarding world was at war or conflict. They were out of touch and woefully unprepared for the next Dark Lord who would rise. And with the many lines of segregation in the Wizarding world, there were many opportunities.

"Keep your head down, sir," the soldier pulled at Vergilius' robes.

Vergilius complied but glared at the soldier nonetheless.

"The enemy trench is four hundred metres away," said Vergilius.

"And a good sniper could hit you from twice that distance," the soldier replied. "You'll die without hearing or seeing your death."

Vergilius gave an involuntary shiver at just how far the Muggles had progressed, maybe Muggle Studies in Hogwarts was worth something after all, if they even covered this. No, he doubted that Muggle Studies covered this, Muggleborns joined the Wizarding world at the age of eleven and spent three quarters of their seven years isolated in Hogwarts. Young and impressionable, they would leave most of their Muggle roots behind and contemporary warfare would never be part of their Muggle roots, too young, it was why most of the Muggleborns assimilated into the Wizarding world. The Muggleborns who wrote the Muggle Studies textbook might not even give much information.

"How far can a rifle fire?" Vergilius asked curiously, looking around at the subhuman living conditions of the trenches and the rifles every single one of the grimy soldiers carried.

"The Smelly I'm carrying here is good up to five hundred metres," the soldier lifted his service rifle to give Vergilius a good view. "But normally two hundred metres is when you start firing accurate shots. Then again, I've heard Richard say he nicked a Fritz from a kilometre and a half away. But then again, he's a tosser."

Vergilius grimaced, he knew what a rifle did. It was simple, crude and hardly impressive, he learned spells that did more damage in his fifth year at Hogwarts. But despite all the superiority of magic - magic that he was fond of and proud of - he knew that when it came to the machines of war, wizards could never beat Muggles in range and precision. One of the hallmarks of a great duelist was their aim, a master duelist could hit a fast moving target a hundred metres away in rapid succession, turning the simplest of spells into dangerous threats. Mere mortals have their effective range restricted to half of that. All known usual dueling spells fizzle out at two hundred metres, if they were powerful.

_Within a hundred metres, give me a wand and I'll give them hell. Beyond that, give me a Muggle weapon or I'm the one going to hell._

Muggles had changed a lot, Vergilius knew the answer to those debates in the Ministry corridors, Muggle advancement was dangerous. If wizards were to ever join a Muggle battle, it would be very different from the golden days of the Urbino mercenaries. Wizards would no longer have the privilege of striking from a distance with spells while the pikemen brawl in the fields. On the contrary, it would be the wizards who have to fight in close quarters while Muggles fire their weapons from a distance. The only tide turners wizards would have were Apparition and wards - though he had yet to test the effect of Muggle weapons on wards. If these trump cards were nullified or if a wizard was taken by surprise before being able to levy these advantages, Muggle weapons might just win from a distance.

Vergilius knew that if the Statute of Secrecy was ever compromised, diplomacy had to be the immediate measure. But knowing the growing popularity of Blood Purity, diplomacy would fail. If it came to fire and brimstone, the Wizarding world would have to adapt. Adapt hard and adapt fast.

* * *

**AN: I always found duelling to be very short range. Imagine taking a laser pointer and tagging a human-sized object one hundred metres away on the first try the moment you switched it on, then add those wand movements you find on the Harry Potter wiki. Never tried it, but I'd imagine it to be hard. But then again, magic is still undeniably powerful, transfigured golems(like in the Battle of Hogwarts), Shield Charms and Blasting Curses against a gun in close range, choice is obivious. As always, reviews motivates me plenty :)**


	27. Chapter 27 - House Visit

**AN: Sorry for the long wait as I've been busy, working non-stop for 19 days on an undermanned team is a strain. Didn't have any time to write, rather, I just pass out on my bed the moment my face hits the pillow. An even bigger sorry as I'll be on a 13 days working spree when the weekend is over, which means zero writing opportunities.**

**As for the story, I think it's time to offer some clues as I think the previous chapter may have a been obscure.**

**MarvelDweeb: So if Chapter 26 was confusing for you, then don't worry, explanations coming up to hopefully clear things up.**

**LadyPhoenix68: You have a good point there, though I believe it will be a matter of who is more prepared.**

**As for Vergilius' storyline, it takes place during WW1, so that will answer some questions. I never stated it, but rather showed it. If you read the chapters he was featured in (22 & 26), you'll see all the references I made: zeppelin bombing, 'war to end all wars', Fritz being the nickname for German soldiers. His storyline might be a little 'out there', but trust me, his journey serves multiple purpose that will explain many things when it ties up with Harry and Anya's journey.**

**As for the first half of Chapter 26, it's basically the Russian's gathering pieces for their game. And if the character 'Leo' at the end of the part seemed like 'yo, wut'. Then I'll say that he was already introduced before, mentioned twice, though very offhandedly so it would be expected to forget that name.**

**First during Chapter 15, in the Red Square part with Nathaniel and Grey. Second during Chapter 21, where he was one of the names of the people with the authority to approve the St Helensworth operation, along with other names present in the Red Square part of Chapter 15. Make what you will of that information.**

**I have been and will be laying down clues at every step of this fic, and then building on those clues mentioned, though those clues will sometimes be very small. If I quote certain lines and information throughout the fic back to back purposely, I could have been giving big hints/spoilers. So if anyone of you would like to spoil yourself, happy hunting I guess :)**

* * *

Chapter 27 - House Visit

Harry had a plan, he always had one when it came to Anne. The track record of his plans might be called shaky at best but he still had a plan. There had been enough restless nights featuring Cedric's dead body lying on the graveyard, his glassy eyes staring hauntingly at him. However, with Anne revealing her imminent departure when she got her OWLs, new nightmares began surfacing once every few nights. Not as often as those featuring Cedric, but still too often for his comfort.

He had no idea that it was even possible for a nightmare of Anne leaving to exist. The concept of it sounded too simple and plain to be considered a nightmare, but when it crept up into the realm of slumber it morphed into something that felt chillingly frightening.

Somehow, it always ended up as something dreadful. Not just her leaving but the people whom he had cared about leaving as well. Or maybe it wasn't just her leaving but her dying. Just like nightmares involving Cedric, Harry would find himself scrambling out of bed, drenched in sweat. Thankfully, there was an absence of feverish mutterings and occasional screaming. And even more thankfully, the Dursleys were all heavy sleepers.

The plan was simple, it sounded simple. Establish such a good relationship with Anne that she can be convinced to stay in Britain. Harry felt that it was much better for her to stay here in Britain. Towards the end of the fourth year, Harry had taken the time to scour the library for the magical history of Russia, much to Ron and Hermione's confusion. Civil war, political disputes, crimes and a bad international reputation that ended in widespread condemnation and sanctions. No, Russia was the last place he wanted Anne to be in, he would never forget the scars that littered her limbs. Her torso was covered but he was sure that the lithe body of hers bore more scars.

Anne came by another few times but she was busy. At least that was Harry's assumption given that she seldom picked up his calls. Currently, Harry was giving it another shot, walking down the streets of Little Whinging. The beeps of the Nokia in his hands went unanswered once more. Harry sighed as he shoved the phone into his pocket, he was tempted to throw it vent his frustration especially when he knew that it would not break from the impact.

Then again, he was still grateful that Anne visited, unlike others who would not bother replying to his letters. He was not mad at Anne, just frustrated that she could not visit him more often. It was therapeutic to spend time with her, she took much of the edge off him. Outside of Hogwarts and just with him, Harry found her a very different person. Quick to react with silent laughter and genuine smiles, her eyes showed more emotion that Harry had ever seen. It was much brighter and much better, a spark that seemed to dance animatedly in the emerald eyes that they shared.

Add that in with her wry sense of humour and Harry kept finding her more and more to be like the sibling he always wanted. She spent her visits hanging out with him on the streets, be it in the vicinity of Privet Drive or in the nearby town. Had it not been for her, the pent up anger and anxiety from Voldemort and the lack of information would have sent him flying into a rage at some point in the summer.

Harry absentmindedly moved his hand to feel the wand holster strapped to his belt. It had the weak Notice-Me-Not Charms to avert Muggle eyes and even a few Wizarding eyes - mainly the weak minded. It had become a pattern, as though he could feel Anne's presence from her gift. He had tried to form as good a relation as he could with Anne but progress had been slow. She had mentioned giving him a chance and she had lowered her guard when spending time with him unlike the start of the fourth year, but she was sometimes still too aloof, enigmatic and tight-lipped.

The sound of loud cackles and hollers broke Harry from his musings. His eyes flickered to the source of the disturbance to find Dudley strolling down the street with his gang. Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance, they were probably recounting their latest bout of bullying. He would never understand how Vernon and Petunia failed to notice these simple things. In fact, the teens of Number 4 Privet Drive were the most infamous in the neighborhood.

His fingers twitched slightly to the clasp of his holster, it was tempting. Harry figured Anne must have rubbed off on him because he found restraining himself not too difficult, simply opting to keep an eye from a distance.

_She's a good influence in a way. So, you'd better be a good influence to her too._

Harry chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Watching Dudley and his gang separate for the evening, Harry decided to tail his cousin. Dudley was the indicator to his curfew and given that Vernon and Petunia were already mad at him for that cracking noise in the yard, it was best to not anger them too much. Going over to mock him seemed tempting as well, but once more he fought to refrain himself.

_There you go, Sirius. Not even tempted, kept my nose clean, just like you said._

Harry supposed it was a little strange, following Dudley from a distance and just watching him silently. If there ever was a time to be called a freak. Then again, the path they were on was the fastest path back home. Silence filled the air as he walked down the footpath, a silence which only grew more pronounced. Slowly, from the periphery, a creeping fog seemed to settle in.

The chill came much faster than the fog, and much more noticeable. Harry felt his gut plunge into icy waters. Only one thing he knew could have brought this sensation. Dementors.

Immediately, he drew his wand out. Casting his eyes around for the familiar hooded figures. Did Anne not say that he was under protection from a bodyguard at all times?

Harry waited desperately for a glowing figure of a patronus to pop out, but nothing came. Suddenly, Harry was hit with a realisation. The cracking sound he had heard before he left the house had indeed been the sound of Disapparition. His bodyguard had left him for other matters.

He took out his phone and the fingers flew into a pattern that ended with Anne's number. As Harry jammed the phone against his ear, began running towards Dudley. Thinking fast, he remembered a snippet of information Anne had given her.

"Dudley! Run to the house! Now!" Harry yelled, Anne had mentioned that the blood wards cast on the Dursleys were nearly impregnable. If they could just get within its influence, they should be safe.

Dudley was already shaking, feeling the effects of the Dementors' presence. He turned around to see Harry sprinting towards him with a wand and promptly panicked. Stumbling in his first steps, Dudley made his way to get as far away from Harry as possible, heading straight for one of the Dementors.

"Dudley, not there!" Harry hollered. "You're running straight towards it! Run back home!"

The beep of the phone signalling a lack of an answer sent Harry cursing under his breath. Anne could perform underage magic, he had seen it and having her coming here would have been beneficial. If only he could bypass the restriction as well, he would have casted a Patronus Charm in a heartbeat.

Having used the phone enough times, Harry swapped to send a text message to her, his fingers flying without visual supervision. Another Dementor was on his tail, he quickened his pace towards Dudley, hoping to drag him towards the direction of their house. He had no idea about the range of the blood wards but he hoped it was near.

'Dementors. Help.'

Glancing swiftly and the screen for confirmation, he sent the text and hoped for the best. A frantic wail rose through the air and Harry snapped back up to look at Dudley. The Dementor had pinned him onto the ground.

A chilling touch collided with his back and Harry fell onto the ground, rolling on the hard pavement to soften the impact. He looked up; a Dementor stared back. Blood wards were now out of the question.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

The silvery stag that burst from his wand smashed against the chest of the Dementor. The Dementor reeled back, swooping away and the stag gave chase.

"The other one!" Harry ordered his patronus and the stag obliged, turning to focus on the Dementor that was inches away from clamping its maw on Dudley's gaping mouth.

The antlers of the stag caught the Dementor on its back, driving it away from Dudley and pinning it against the asphalt. The Dementor struggled as it clawed on the road surface before finally slipping out from the antlers' hold and flying away.

Harry let out a sigh of relief as the Dementor fled, his chest heaving as adrenaline still rushed through his blood. Dementors in Little Whinging, a shiver when down his spine at the thought. Making his way to Dudley, he tried to pick him up. Dudley gave him a weak shove.

"Stay away... don't... don't," Dudley mumbled incoherently.

The sound of footsteps brought the approach of Mrs Figg to his attention. He tried to hastily stow his wand back into his holster, but Mrs Figg's words caught him off guard.

"Don't keep that wand away, boy! What if there are more of them?"

His jaw dropped wide open as the cat-loving neighbour launched herself into a rant. Harry could vaguely catch the words 'duty', 'Mundungus', 'Dumbledore' and 'Dementors'. Anne had already told him about bodyguards keeping watch on him but Mrs Figg being one of them blew his mind wide open. She had been neighbours for as long as he could remember.

"You... you're a witch?" Harry gasped.

"Squib," Mrs Figg replied. "As Mundungus knows full well. Never transfigured so much as a teabag in my life."

"Why... why..."

"Couldn't have been too kind to you, Harry," Mrs Figg said apologetically. "The Dursleys wouldn't have let you over if that was the case."

"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore about the Dursleys?"

"I did. But Dumbledore insisted that the magical protection laid on your house was worth it," Mrs Figg explained. "'Better roughed up than dead', he said. Visiting the Dursleys wouldn't have helped either, it would have just made them more bitter."

"Didn't really work out now, did it?" Harry snorted, gesturing towards a trembling Dudley.

"Aye," Mrs Figg sighed. "Best get that lump up."

Harry tucked his arm beneath Dudley's armpits and heaved, struggling to lift him up. He got it eventually and he was glad that boxing had allowed Dudley to shed a good number of pounds. Slowly, they made their way towards Number 4 Privet Drive, Mrs Figg rambling throughout the entire journey. Halfway through, a man dressed in ragged clothing apparated in front of them.

"Eh, Figgy what happened to staying under cover?" the man slurred. Harry could make out the distinct smell of tobacco and alcohol. He recalled Anne's words of 'some mangy person in rags' and assumed him to be Mundungus, the one assigned to guard him.

"Dementors! You absolute fiend!" Mrs Figg screeched, smacking him with the umbrella in her hand. "Dementors right under your nose while you run off for some stolen cauldrons!"

Harry stared with a mixture of astonishment and shock. Mundungus certainly did not appear to be one with the prowess to cast a Patronus Charm. What would he have done? Maybe a quick Side-Along-Disapparition to ferry him to the safety of the blood wards at best.

"Alright! Alright!" Mundungus yelped, shielding himself from Mrs Figg's assault. "Someone needs to tell Dumbledore about this!"

"Yes, you go now," Mrs Figg snapped. "And I hope he punishes you to kingdom come!"

Mundungus pried himself from Mrs Figg's umbrella and spun on the spot, disapparating with the same cracking noise Harry had heard this afternoon.

"Come on, best hurry up," Mrs Figg urged Harry as he dragged Dudley along.

Harry sighed, of all the people to be assigned to guard him today, it had to be this Mundungus character. He knew for a fact that Dumbledore had assigned Aurors to guard him, three of them as far as he knew. Anne had told him on multiple occasions that she would not come because there was an Auror - or ex-Auror in one case - watching over him. Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. The fact that Anne knew the names of specifically the Magical Law Enforcement personnel was slightly disconcerting. Once more, Harry was quite sure that Anne was involved in a lot more than she let on.

After much effort on Harry's part, they reached the doorstep of the Dursleys. Harry cast another glance at his cousin. Dudley was white-faced and shaking, mumbling incoherently and still making futile attempts to push him away.

"Best that the Dursleys don't see me," said Mrs Figg. "You go on now."

With that, she turned and scuttled over to her house opposite the street, leaving Harry and Dudley alone. Steeling himself for the worst, Harry kept his wand and reached for the doorknob.

"Dudders... is that you? Dudders!" Petunia shrieked as she stumbled onto them. It was at that opportune moment that Dudley chose to empty his stomach, heaving out the remnants of his still-digesting junk food.

Harry released his hold on Dudley, not willing to come between him and a rushing Petunia. He stepped aside into a corner of the hall, trying to garner as little attention as possible.

"What happened?" Petunia asked frantically. "Did Mrs Polkiss put something foreign in your tea?"

Dudley opened and closed his mouth but only unintelligible blubbering came from his lips.

"Oh god! You've been mugged," Petunia said in terror. "Vernon, call the police! Hurry."

"No..." Dudley stuttered. "Not mugged..."

"Come on lad," Vernon knelt down to hold Dudley. "You can tell us."

Dudley raised a trembling finger and Harry knew he was in for it.

"Him."

Harry stiffened and braced for impact.

"BOY!" Vernon thundered. "GET OVER HERE!"

Harry sighed and made his way over, taking his own sweet time.

"What did you do to him?" Vernon growled.

"Nothing," Harry tried to explain. "It wasn't me-"

"Was," Dudley mumbled.

"Listen, I didn't-"

Harry's words were cut off as a screech owl swooped through a window, dropping a letter into Harry's hands before taking a hard turn and exit from the same window it entered from.

"OWLS!" Vernon roared in anger. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THEM IN THE HOUSE!"

Harry ignored his uncle, fumbling slightly as he opened the letter. He paled as he read the contents. Expulsion from Hogwarts for underage magic in the presence of a Muggle, along with an incoming Ministry representative to confiscate his wand as well as a disciplinary hearing.

The contents of the letter ran on repeat in his mind, Vernon and Petunia were still talking loudly and Dudley had another wave of vomit expelling from his guts. It was chaos for Harry and the second owl that swooped in only added more fuel to the fire, forcing Harry to retrieve the second letter amidst another fresh wave of anger from Vernon.

_Harry_

_Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND._

_Arthur Weasley_

"BOY! I want answers! NOW!" Vernon's holler brought Harry's attention back to the house.

"Yes?" Harry replied questioningly, trying to keep calm. Panic was the last thing he ought to be doing.

"Let's start with… WHAT THE HELL ARE ALL THOSE OWLS FOR?!"

"First one was from the Ministry of Magic, expelling me," Harry answered stiffly. "Second one was from my friend Ron's dad, who works at the Ministry."

"_Ministry of Magic_? Freaks like you with a ministry? In the government? This explains everything! No wonder the country's going to the dogs! And expelling you? What for?"

"For doing magic."

"Ah ha! So you admit it!"

"Only in self-defence," Harry scowled.

Suddenly, Harry's phone came to life and he picked up the call. The Dursleys stared at him suspiciously as he placed the phone against his ear.

"Well, I take it that you survived the encounter," Harry recognised Anya's voice as she spoke drily. "What's the situation?"

"The Ministry is after me for underage magic," Harry said the most pressing problem in his mind.

"Noted. The Dementors?"

"Gone."

"Am I still needed?"

"I don't even know what to do, the Ministry said they would be coming to confiscate my wand and then Mr Weasley told me something else and-"

"I'll be there shortly."

A beep followed and the call ended. Vernon puffed up, already fed up with the owls. Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang. The sound gave way to an eerie silence. Vernon and Petunia looked at each other tensely before the former gave a sharp nod, turning to the front door. He swung the door open and his massive frame prevented Harry from seeing the visitor, whether it was the Ministry, Anne, Dumbledore or someone else.

"What do you want?" Vernon grunted rudely.

"I have matters to deal with relating to one Harry James Potter," Anya voice sailed through the air. "Is he in?"

Harry held his breath, Anne said she would be coming shortly but this was fast.

"Are you with your freak ministry?" Vernon asked suspiciously. "You seem a little too young."

His statement was met with silence. Harry could imagine Anne's stare making Vernon feel uneasy. His imagination was probably spot on as Vernon gave way to her, as though backing out from an unspoken challenge.

With the lumbering frame moving out of the way, Harry could finally see his sister. Her green eyes darted around, taking note of her surroundings. She took a step into the house and slowly assessed its occupants. Her face was painted in an expression that screamed unimpressed. Taking the Dursleys into account, it was not surprising.

She was dressed in rugged clothing, cargo pants, combat boots and a dark grey jacket fully zipped up. Though out of place for a suburban neighbourhood, it was still completely Muggle, probably the reason Vernon had to ask if she was from the 'freak ministry' and even allowed her in.

"Anne! You came," Harry said weakly and Anya gave a nod in reply.

Apparently, the perceived familiarity did not bode well with Vernon.

"You're friends with him!?" Vernon roared, pointing at Harry and moving towards Anya angrily.

The girl was not fazed the slightest as she drew out a pistol from nowhere and released a round into the ceiling light. The soft crack of gunfire and shattering of glass sent Vernon stumbling back and Petunia screaming. Swiftly, Anya lowered her aim down to Vernon, her lazy and relaxed posture speaking volumes of her confidence.

"You know," said Anya softly, but there was a cold edge to her voice that left her words heard clearly. "The freak ministry doesn't care if you die from _normal_ means, that's for the normal police to deal with. And normal police will never find a freak, much less catch one."

A silent chill descended over the house, one that even Harry felt. Threatening the Dursleys at gunpoint in cold blood was shocking, he knew she kept secrets but this? This opened up more questions as it always did with Anne.

"I take your silence as an understanding that I could kill you and get away with it?" Anya tilted her head slightly. "Good, now face that wall and arms against it, all of you."

"Listen here," Vernon growled, gathering up his courage. "You don't think-"

Another crack filled the air and the wall behind Vernon broke into spidery cracks, leaving a bleeding arm in its wake. Vernon's face paled as he stared dumbly at the wound, it was a shallow graze but the fact that the teenage girl shot him without a trace of emotion did more damage.

"That's right, I don't think, I act. The next one goes into your leg and we'll decide later where the following ones go."

Anya took a slight step forward lazily and the Dursleys - barring Dudley who was still suffering from the aftereffects of the dementor - rushed to comply with her instructions. They flushed against the wall with hands pushed against it. Harry stared in shock as Anya stepped forward to give both of them a pat down just like the police did in the television, keeping her pistol still aimed that Vernon.

"What... but... we did nothing wrong," Vernon barked fearfully. "It was that boy that did it."

Anya made no response, finishing her search before heading towards Harry. Something caught her eye as she stopped halfway, she altered her course to the cupboard under the stairs. Her wand snapped into her palm and she gave a quick swish, opening the cupboard door.

Harry shifted uneasily as Anya inspected his past living conditions, which still bore the signs that someone had once lived in it. He had mentioned his past to her a few times and was ashamed of it. From the side, Harry could see the Dursleys gaping at Anya. He was not sure if their gaping was guilt or just the fear of being caught for child abuse. Anya lifted her eyebrows, completely unamused. While turning back to Harry, she stopped halfway as she met Petunia's stare.

"Petunia Dursley?"

The woman in question nodded in fright and Harry saw Anya's eyebrows rise a little higher, as though questioning how she was related to the giraffe in front of her. Harry assumed she probably was doing just that.

"What's the situation?" Anya asked, facing Harry. "From the start."

"Two Dementors," said Harry. "They came after me and Dudley there."

"And how did you respond?"

"Patronus Charm."

"Good, I'm not even needed. Can't do that charm myself," Anya shrugged.

"You can't?" Harry knew it was a NEWT charm but Anne's performance at the Triwizard Tournament gave him an assumption.

"Dementors are local to Azkaban, Britain. Why do I even need to when I'm staying here for a short term?"

Harry once again grimaced at the casual statement of her leaving.

"Well, nice work there," Anya continued. "Even adult wizards have difficulty with it. After that?"

"The Ministry wants to bring me in for underage magic," Harry said lamely. "Expulsion and the confiscation of my wand, they'll be coming shortly."

"And...?" Anya asked expectantly.

"Mr Weasley told me to not do anymore underage magic and to not give up my wand," Harry replied. "They said Dumbledore is settling things."

"Best case scenario, I do nothing," Anya muttered to herself.

"So what do I do?" Harry asked, glad that there was someone from the magical world to provide answers.

"Listen to them," Anya answered. "Dumbledore still pulls weight in the British Ministry despite being kicked from his Ministry positions and he knows his laws, they'll do whatever damage control that needs to be done."

"And if the Ministry comes?" Harry asked incredulously, surprised that Anya told him to sit still and be a good boy as well.

Anya stared straight into his eyes.

"I'll deal with them."

Harry immediately averted his gaze, staring uncomfortably at the blank wall. Silence settled over the house once more and Anya settled herself on the dining room table, taking no heed of the Dursleys' growing discomfort.

There was no knocking of the door to signal the entrance of the Ministry. Rather, another owl flew through the window, much to the displeasure and anger of Vernon. Harry snatched the falling letter from the air and began reading. He heaved a sigh of relief, everything was pushed back to the disciplinary hearing, he still had a chance.

"News?" Anya asked.

"The Ministry got called off, I have to attend a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry."

"Smart move on them, the lion chased the deer to its den," Anya commented.

"What do you mean?"

"Who controls the Dementors?" Anya asked rhetorically.

"It could be Voldemort," Harry retorted.

"And do you still remember the letter I showed you earlier this summer?"

The letter that was an assasination contract with his name on it, intercepted from - according to Anne - the Ministry.

"Oh shit," Harry groaned. "I'm cornered."

Anya kept silent as Harry began making his way to his room, he needed to clear his head.

"And where are you going," Vernon growled. "I want answers."

Harry sighed in frustration, waving a lazy hand. "Fire away."

"What happened?"

"Dudley and I were on our way home, and then we were ambushed by two Dementors."

"And just what the hell are those?"

"They guard the wizard prison Azkaban."

There was a pin drop silence as everyone stared at Petunia Dursley, who had covered her mouth as though she uttered a bad word. Harry's head was reeling, Mrs Figg was one thing, Aunt Petunia was another. Why was everyone around him holding secrets?

"Sorry, I heard it from the awful boy, telling her about it years ago," Petunia explained.

"So what do they do?" Vernon asked, casting a worried glance at Dudley.

"Drain all the happiness from you, leaving you in despair and nausea," explained Harry, gesturing at the blabbering Dudley. "And if they Kiss you-"

"Kiss you?" Vernon echoed in disbelief.

"They suck the soul out from you," Harry continued past Vernon's interruption.

Both Dursleys gave a scream as they turned their attention back to Dudley, shaking him to see if he still had his soul intact.

"Dudders! Dudders! Are you alright?"

"He still has his soul," Harry said exasperatedly. "He wouldn't have been speaking if it was otherwise."

"Then why would these Dementoids be in Little Whinging?" Vernon asked. "You commited a crime, didn't you?"

"No," Harry retorted bluntly.

"It's you isn't it?" Vernon continued, narrowing his eyes and another wave of anger coursed through him. "You're the only freak here and they were coming after you. THAT'S IT! YOU ARE TO LEAVE THIS HOUSE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU ENDANGERING THIS FAMILY! OUT! OUT! OUT!"

Vernon's face slowly turned purple with anger as he made his way towards Harry, fist raised. There was a soft rustling and all eyes turned to Anya who was aiming her pistol between Vernon's eyes. Blood drained from Vernon's face as the purple receded to white, he had forgotten she was there.

"Your move."

Vernon froze on the spot, eyes flickering from Harry to her blank face and to the pistol. Slowly, he backed off, only for another owl to swoop into the house, dropping a bright red letter. Harry made to pick it up but Petunia beat him to it, snatching it away with deft hands.

"Well, go ahead, open it," said Harry. "It's a Howler, I'll hear what it says anyway."

"Petunia, don't open it," Vernon gasped. "It's dangerous."

"But it's even addressed to me, look," Petunia showed her husband the crimson letter, her name and address written on it.

"Just open it," Harry urged her.

But the letter had enough of Petunia's hesitance and promptly burst into flames, startling Petunia who gave a loud shriek.

"_Remember my last, Petunia_."

The booming voice echoed around the kitchen as Petunia seemed to sag on the spot.

"My last what?" Harry asked. "Who was that from?"

"Doesn't matter," Petunia snapped. "Just… just go to your room, please."

The last words came when she threw a glance at Anya, who still trained her pistol at Vernon.

"Are you in contact with the wizards?" Harry pressed.

"No," Petunia retorted, looking scandalised. "Just go to bed."

Harry looked at Anya who shrugged. "I'm not going to torture and interrogate them if that's what you're asking."

It was Harry's turn to look scandalised at her suggestion, he simply sighed and finally made his way to his room upstairs. Anya followed Harry up the stairs, and they entered his room. Harry cringed slightly at the state of his room. It was a cluttered mess, scraps of parchment littered the floor along with various books and knick-knacks. However, Anya seemed unperturbed by the state of disarray, simply taking a seat on his bed.

"Court hearing huh?" Anya wondered out loud. "I suppose you better be careful."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "As you said, the lion chased the deer to its den."

"Do you think it's safe?" Harry asked.

"They wouldn't do anything in public," Anya replied. "But I wouldn't say it's safe."

"Should I just... not go? Live out like Sirius? Convicts on the run?"

"You tell me if you ever decide that."

"Wait... why?"

Silence. Harry sighed.

"Thanks for coming," said Harry.

"I'm not," Anya chuckled. "Much like the first time, I came here to waste my time. Apparently I'm not even needed."

"Don't say that," Harry cracked a smile. "Shocking as it was, it was still a treat to see the Dursleys held at gunpoint. They're scared enough of Sirius coming here to assault them as it is, but you just ratcheted up that fear."

"Yeah, go ahead and tell them I work for Sirius," Anya gave a wry grin. "Paint him to be this criminal lord or something and then I'll leave a bullet casing at your uncle's workplace for him to find."

Harry laughed, the tension from the Ministry letters slowly easing off. "Merlin, that will send Vernon straight to the psychiatrist."

"He ought too," Anya snorted. "This entire family is dysfunctional. Can't believe that's my aunt, especially when you compare her to mother."

"I can't believe that myself on some days as well."

Anya stood up, looking out the window.

"I'd better get going," said Anya. "I'm sure Dumbledore is going to send a more competent bodyguard very soon. Probably 'Professor' Moody, and I wouldn't want to stick around."

"You can't stay?" Harry asking pleadingly.

Anya stared at Harry and Harry forced himself to meet her gaze.

"Fine," Anya relented. "But I'm booking out soon and at the first sign of 'safety for you and trouble for me', understood?"

Harry nodded as Anya drew her wand and pointed it at a coin in her palm. She muttered the Portkey Charm before giving the wand a few additional twists and flicks, as though altering the charm. Once done, she pocketed the coin.

"You have to teach me how to bypass the underage magic restriction," Harry said breathlessly at the casual use of magic. "It would have helped me a lot."

Anya simply tilted her head as she stared curiously at Harry, before giving a slight shake of her head.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked as Anya left the room.

"Kitchen," came her reply. "It's almost dinnertime."

"Wait," Harry gaped. "You can't just take food from them."

"Tell that to the pistol."

Harry slowly made his way downstairs where he saw Vernon and Petunia still fussing over Dudley. Anya had commandeered the kitchen, scouring the fridge and shelves for ingredients.

"Garlic, basil, parsley... dried, not fresh, but still fine," Harry could hear Anya murmur to herself as she set the ingredients on the kitchen top. "Olive oil, salt... where do they keep the spaghetti in this place?"

Harry turned to check on the Dursleys who were staring at Anya. Vernon was torn between fear and rage, but the pistol that lay beside the ingredients kept him from any outburst.

"Harry?" Anya's voice brought back his attention. "Where do they keep the spaghetti?"

"Huh? Oh right," said Harry before moving to open a shelf.

Years of being the Dursleys' slave meant that he had spent just as much time in the kitchen as Petunia. Petunia never trusted him with the meals for special occasions but breakfast had always been his responsibility, as well lunch when it was the summer.

"Thanks," Anya took the packet from Harry's hands, setting down the ingredients.

"You're actually cooking," Harry muttered in disbelief.

"Nothing too complicated," Anya shrugged. "If you have to live without adult supervision for extended periods, you learn."

Anya pushed a cutting board under him, giving him an expectant look.

"Slice the garlic, make them thin," Anya ordered, handing him a knife.

"I'm part of this?"

"Have you eaten?"

"You trust me to cook?"

"Aglio e olio. Simple dish," said Anya, fetching a bag of lettuce and baby spinach from the fridge, much to Petunia's soft whining protest. "You can't possibly screw up, especially when you cook better than me."

"How do you know I can even cook?" Harry asked in confusion.

Anya cast a pointed look at the cupboard under the stairs before turning her attention back to the fridge, this time to raid the cherry tomatoes that Petunia had bought this afternoon. Harry grumbled in defeat before attending to his assigned task. The two worked in silence, Anya occasionally gave an instruction and Harry would follow.

"How have you been?" Harry broke the silence, he was usually the one between the two of them.

"Fine," she replied, dicing the last of the cherry tomatoes and starting on the lettuce.

"Have you heard from Sirius?" Harry cracked up the stove, waiting for the garlic and olive oil to heat up.

"No."

"No?"

"I don't think he's feeling it," Anya mused, turning away from the lettuce to focus on the now cooked spaghetti, draining out the water.

"Why's that?" Harry obliged to her pointing finger and took over the lettuce, leaving her with the pan.

"Shame, I guess," Anya disturbed the garlic as the pan began to sizzle, adjusting the heat.

"Oh," Harry knew what she meant, Sirius messed up big by spilling her identity. The thought brought up another question, hopefully one Anya would actually answer. "How did Dumbledore make you end up in Russia?"

"Oh, you can read between the lines, not bad," Anya smirked.

"Just answer the question," Harry snorted.

Anya stared distantly at the pan, the garlic had just started browning. Harry could tell she was trying to make a choice.

"I was found abandoned on a bridge by my family," the words came out slowly from her lips. "Who brought me to raise me up in Russia."

Silence fell between the two once more as Harry stared in shock. The only sound was the loud sizzle when Anya added the spaghetti into the pan, tossing the pasta to incorporate the garlic infused oil and adding in the basil and parsley.

The nearby kitchen window cracked, then shattered.

"He left you?" Harry asked rhetorically, feeling a slow swirl of anger bubbling.

"Probably has his reasons," Anya shrugged, adding salt to the pasta. "Not complaining."

"He left you to die Anne," Harry spat exasperatedly. "How could you not be complaining?"

"But I didn't die," said Anya as though it explained everything.

"But he left you," Harry repeated, done with the lettuce and sorting them into the bowls Anya had laid.

"The feeling is mutual," Anya said casually as she turned off the heat.

Harry glared at her, unable to find the words to express his disbelief. Anya chose to ignore his glare, separating the pasta to two plates. Harry added the baby spinach and cherry tomatoes to finish the salad. A quick honey lemon dressing and their dinner was completed in fifteen minutes.

They ate their meal in silence, the Dursleys had long scurried out of the house to seek their dinner elsewhere. Harry chewed slowly, the food was nowhere near Hogwarts but it was good. Simple and tasty, just like Anne said. With nothing to do, his thoughts wandered over to Dumbledore.

Resentment, that was Harry's main emotion. Withholding information and denying contact had been tolerable, Dumbledore always had a reason. But abandoning Anne was crossing a line. Anne herself may have been fine with it but not him.

"Stop being so bitter," Anya interrupted his thoughts. "Ruins good food. Eat. You're like a human trafficking victim with all the skin and bones."

"Sorry that there's a lot going through my mind," Harry retorted waspishly. "It's just Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, they're all holding things from me. Everyone is doing that to me. Even you."

Once again he was met with silence, that had been the routine ever since he found out her identity. Silence and shrugs, try as he might, Anne kept being an enigma. Sighing, he chose to take another conversation, one that hopefully she was not against discussing.

"What do you think Voldemort is doing?"

"Beats me," Anya shrugged. "I would imagine him in a dark cave somewhere, plotting some kind of grand scheme."

"What kind of schemes? I haven't seen anything on the Daily Prophet."

"Then it's safe to assume said schemes are secretive enough to avoid public notice."

"That doesn't sound good... Anne?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you still be leaving Britain after your OWLs?"

"Of course."

"But Voldemort's back."

"Not my fight."

"He killed mom and dad."

Anya stared at her now empty plate, not meeting his eyes

"Everyone dies at some point."

"That's your response?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I should get going," Anya rose from her seat, heading for the door.

"Really? That soon?" said Harry, feeling worried that the topic might have chased her away.

"It's already night," Anya replied, checking her watch and nodding to herself.

Harry watched as she took out a coin and cast a Portkey Charm on it. She tossed the coin to Harry who caught it with ease.

"In the event you're in danger," Anya explained. "Just say the word 'trouble' and it'll send you to London, just outside Leaky Cauldron on the Muggle side."

Harry nodded silently as he watched her leave the building giving her a wave which she returned. Once Anya was at the roadside, she vanished into the night.


	28. Chapter 28 - Tailed

**AN: I kind of disappoint myself with the time it took to get another chapter out. Sorry for the long wait but as I've said I've been busy :(. Hope you all enjoy this one and as always reviews go a long way.**

**JohnMonty: Can't have action-heavy chapters all the time ;) although I'll admit they're fun to write, but once Fifth Year starts there will be a lot more.**

**JQAlsus: Chapter 14 wise, Anya created a runic circle to counteract the null magic as soon as she saw it, though null magic is still something I'm trying to smooth the creases over. Also, not Russian, just relying on Google to aid me. Chinese is my mother tongue, though I'm rusty beyond measure and trust me when I say I've seen people whose parents divert from traditional Pinyin spelling for their names just so that it'll be unique.**

* * *

Chapter 28 - Tailed

"There was some new intel one of our informants got from the Reds," Dimitri said nonchalantly, drawing another rune on the concrete floor with a piece of green chalk.

"How on earth do you keep nabbing intel you shouldn't be getting," said Jen who was opposite from the Russian, drawing runes of his own. "I know for a fact we don't receive intel on the Reds."

They had been working on it for fifteen minutes, a circle of runes with a twenty metre radius in the centre that was left empty.

"I'm a natural," Dimitri grinned.

"Natural idiot," Jen replied.

"Does it relate to the Black Mark shipment that the two British Aurors intercepted?" Anya asked from a corner, flipping through the document she had been reading for months.

They were lounging in the hanger of an old abandoned airbase. The place was dusty and dilapidated, but also secluded.

"Damn, you're perceptive," muttered Dimitri. "I guess the timing lines up, huh?"

"It was a wild guess," Anya shrugged, not taking her eyes from the document.

"So what's the intel," Jen prompted.

"Black Mark shipment wasn't just fodder for the British media. Someone was actually moving all those cargo, just using the Black Mark as a cover."

"Plausible deniability," Jen nodded, finishing the last of his runes and now waiting for Dimitri. "I thought that throwing a few thousand galleons was a bit too much to appease the Brits. Do we know who?"

"Nope," replied Dimitri, finally finishing his end. "But everything kind of lines up, people have been moving items around for some time. You remember that, Jen?"

"Shit, don't remind me," Jen groaned. "We still need to do a full recce on all the locations."

"This British operation is a shit show," Anya sighed. "Nobody knows what's going on, even the Spooks. And the Magical Law Enforcement personnel who aren't Spooks actually believe that we are here on a just cause."

"Ha! I know right!" Dimitri barked out in laughter. "If we weren't privy to the St Helensworth operation and involved in the subsequent setups, we would have actually thought the Black Mark to be a real thing."

"Everyone is only getting a fraction of the information," Jen commented. "Too many need-to-know dead ends. I swear, even Nathaniel doesn't know the full picture."

"Only old man Grey," Dimitri chuckled. A sentiment echoed by the other two.

"Then again, that's how you actually cover up a national level plot," Jen shrugged. "Crow, you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Anya placed the document down.

She made her way to the large runic circle, stepping into the empty space. Dimitri and Jen drew their wands, chanting out long incantations as Anya saw strings of magic seep out from the runes, stitching together to form a hemisphere.

"Good to go," Jen gave her a thumbs up.

Recalling all she could from the document she had been reading, she mustered up every once of her willpower. Words spilled from her lips and from the tip of her wand came a small and steady stream of fire. It curled and twisted, taking the form of a serpent. The fiery snake wrestled about, as though it was fighting against something.

The fire fought against Anya's control and she redoubled her efforts. Finally, she felt as though an invisible cord snapped and she immediately leapt back, out of the circle. The fiery serpent lunged after her, only to be repulsed by an invisible wall when it reached the circle of runes. Sighing to herself, she waved her wand and muttered the counter curse. Slowly the fire ebbed away into nothingness, leaving behind scorch marks on the floor.

"First attempt, not bad," Jen nodded. "Got the counter curse down too."

"You have to respect the people who can properly cast a controlled Fiendfyre," Anya muttered. "Containment wards are still good?"

"Good for the whole day."

"Wouldn't be here for the whole day."

Fiendfyre had sparked her interest after her encounter with the impersonated Professor Moody. Cursed fire that could practically destroy almost anything and could spread over a vast area. If that was not useful, Anya didn't know what was.

"We know, just practice all you can."

Taking a deep breath, Anya entered the circle once more and raised her wand. Learning new spells felt better when Nathaniel was there to coach her, but then again, you can't have everything.

**XXXXX**

Anya rubbed the back of her head as she groaned almost silently. Magic always took a toll on the body and Fiendfyre was not an exception. The ache stretched from the crown of her head to her tailbone, she had suffered worse but it was still unpleasant.

"Rough day?" Astoria asked.

"Clearly," Anya sighed. "Pulled an all nighter doing the entire summer homework in a single session."

"One day's worth of pure suffering for a summer of relaxation," Astoria nodded.

The two girls were strolling down the streets of Muggle London. They had met up after lunch and Anya decided to sate Astoria's curiosity regarding Muggle cinematography. Both of them spent a great deal of time laughing over the Muggle portrayal of ghosts as they watched _Casper_, one of the blockbusters of the summer. At the moment, the two of them were making their way back to the magical side of London, the Leaky Cauldron was a few streets away.

As they passed by yet another cafe, Anya spotted something off. Three fine lines, twisting about in the distance at the end of the street. Red building, third floor, second window from the right. The subtlest of concealment spells.

She checked her surroundings surreptitiously. Her front and sides were clear. Glancing at all the reflective surfaces around her, she focused on her right eye and checked her rear.

It was as if someone flicked on a switch in the back of her brain. Her breathing became controlled, slow, steady. Her senses thrown into overdrive. The conditioned mind and body took control.

Two people, tailing her from a distance. Anya sighed, it felt just like Azerbaijan, at least this time Dimitri could not mess up with the equipment smuggling that left her with only a wand back then. She had a ballistic vest concealed under the jacket she was wearing, her pistol and various runic discs to cloak her underage magic among other things.

One group at her rear, a possible sniper team in the distant building ahead and Astoria to take care off. Then, she noticed Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards going up. She grimaced, this was nothing like Azerbaijan, and gauging from the way her pursuers were dressed and the types of magic radiating off them, they were possibly Spooks as well. One in the front and one in the rear, a straight street with no turns, they were slowing boxing her in. If they were Spooks, it was a slight relief that there were only two teams. That meant they were only hunting her at half a standard ambush section, she did not fancy being surrounded by three teams with one on pursuit.

"Astoria, I want you to keep a straight face."

"Huh?" Astoria faced her, looking slightly confused.

"Do not panic. Not one bit. Just keep walking."

There was a cold edge to Anya's voice that Astoria picked up immediately and to her credit, she adapted swiftly and impeccably like a true student of Slytherin.

"Alright, no problem," Astoria chirped. "Want to talk about it?"

Anya cracked a slight grin, Astoria even kept her words and tone unassuming in an act of foresight.

"We can talk freely," Anya replied. "We're being followed."

"By who?"

"Bad people."

"Hmm..." Astoria glanced at Anya. "Black Mark members?"

"We can assume that I guess," said Anya.

"Daughter of the Greengrass family and niece of a high-ranking Russian Auror," Astoria sighed. "Kidnap and ransom?"

"I was thinking along the lines of abduct and interrogate."

"So... what do we do?" Astoria kept her voice cool but there was a slight tremor that could not be hidden.

Anya was still observing her surroundings discreetly, considering her options. There were several that sprang to mind but in the meantime, there was no golden opportunity, she had to bide her time.

"Keep calm and listen to my every instruction," Anya muttered, watching the afternoon traffic. A small idea came to her mind, just like Azerbaijan. "Do not hesitate when I tell you to do something."

"Okay, got it," Astoria nodded nervously, she was getting worried but still nowhere close to cracking. It frightened her to know that she was in danger but not how or why, humans always fear the unknown.

"Here's the situation," Anya knew she had to give Astoria information to calm her down. "Two of them are behind us, about fifty metres, in plain Muggle clothing. I saw something fishy in that red building ahead, worse case scenario, they have people up there with sniper rifles. Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards are up."

Astoria bit her lip but gave no other indication of panicking. Anya reached into her jacket and grabbed a runic disc meant to cloak underage magic, she always carried a spare. The sniper in the red building was problematic, but an urban environment gave plenty of concealment. She waited for a blind spot, which came in the form of a bus stop that stood between them and the red building as they walked, and immediately passed the disc to Astoria. To Astoria's credit, she accepted it without hesitation and pocketed it swiftly.

"What's that?"

"You are now illegally allowed to cast magic without the repercussions that come with underage magic."

"Shouldn't we just go with a bang?" Astoria asked. "It'll bring the Ministry here, wouldn't it? We are in a dense Muggle environment after all, they have to send some Obliviators."

"Think St Helensworth incident among the many disadvantages of that option and you'll know why I don't trust that option," Anya replied. "The first responders wouldn't be Aurors anyway. If things don't change quickly, we're cornered, we need to act soon."

As Astoria waited patiently, Anya simply continued on.

"Do you know the Confundus Charm?"

"A bit," Astoria replied. "Not good enough to implant suggestions but enough to distract and confuse."

"Good enough. Freezing Charm?"

"That's a second year spell."

"The possible sniper is looking at us diagonally down the road from the end of the street, get out of his line of fire as quick as possible," said Anya. "So when I give you the signal, hit the tires of that bus there with a Freezing Charm and immediately break right for indoors. Tag any onlookers with a Confundus Charm and exit through the back door. Keep running in the direction towards our right, I'll catch up and guide you from there. Stay out of sight from the general direction of the possible sniper, especially from that red building."

Astoria nodded, putting her hands in her pockets, presumably to get a grip on her wand. Anya paid attention to the road, all the cars were at a stop, the traffic lights red. They were walking against the traffic of the cars. It had been red for some time, green would come any moment.

"Get ready," Anya murmured.

The lights turned green and the sound of revving engines reached Anya's ears, she focused on the large red double-decker bus as it began lumbering down the road. The hulk of red slowly began cutting off her line of sight with the red building, blocking the possible sniper's vision of them.

Three metres. Two metres. One metres.

_Now._

Anya drew out her wand in a practiced snap and a swift flick to her left hit an unsuspecting driver of a Rolls-Royce with a Confundus Charm. The sound of the car speeding off filled her ears and she barked out her command.

"Now."

Astoria pulled her wand out, taking a swift aim at the bus.

"_Immobulus._"

The bus ground to halt. The Rolls-Royce sped past her. Astoria started running. Anya spun around. She could see the two men springing into action. She raised her wand and took aim.

"_Fumos_."

The Rolls-Royce swerved hard towards her pursuers at the same time the grey jet of light left her wand. Both pursuers disappeared from sight as the Rolls-Royce blocked them from Anya's view with a loud crash. Her spell engulfed the wreck in a cloud of thick smoke, obscuring her from the pursuers. If they were any good, they would have gotten off from the crash just fine.

Turning around, she dashed after Astoria, ignoring the screams that rose in the air. Astoria was easy to follow, she simply had to follow the traces of magic left behind as Astoria charmed her way to the backdoor of the building. Confunded people and magically unlocked doors were clear signs for Anya, as well as the pursuers when they came by.

Anya came out from the backdoor and into the alleyway, she looked around and spotted an open door with faint lines of magic emanating from the keyhole. She ran through the door, into the building and out from its front into the other street. Looking around, she saw Astoria dashing past a pedestrian crossing towards the opposite side of the street, slipping into an alleyway.

Making use of the present red traffic light and ignoring the distant pedestrian crossing, Anya cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and ran straight across, sliding over and weaving around cars. In a few moments she had caught up with Astoria and dropped the charm.

"Left door at the end, enter it. Wait there."

Astoria looked back in surprise before complying. Anya stopped, accessing her situation before pulling out a piece of red chalk. Narrow alleys with sharp angles, any possible sniper was out of the picture. Lack of an opposing sniper was good, Anya needed every edge she could get. The tight pathway of the alley was also favourable, reducing the enemy's advantage in numbers. Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards were problematic enough, but having to lug Astoria along was too much, she would have to fight. Hopefully, the clean trail that had been left behind had given the pursuers a false impression, because Anya needed another edge.

Drawing a set of runes on the wall, she pointed her wand at it and pumped in the magic required before hiding the runes by pushing a dumpster over it. As she ran back towards the door she had ordered Astoria to enter from, Anya froze. Red lines filled her vision and she immediately threw herself against the wall. The crack of a bullet that impacted the wall echoed in the alley, a bullet that just missed her. They were fast.

A second smokescreen went up from Anya's wand and she sprinted through the door where Astoria awaited her. The younger girl was panting hard, resting on her knees with one hand clenched tightly around her wand.

"_A Divinator's Sonata_," Astoria said immediately.

Anya paused for a second, before noticing Astoria's tense posture and coming to a realisation.

_Smart girl_.

"_Chaconne in F minor_."

Astoria deflated as she heard the reply, slumping onto the floor in relief.

"Are we safe-"

"Not yet. Get up."

Cursing under her breath, Astoria climbed back up, looking at Anya expectantly.

"We're fighting them here. Actually, I am."

"What!?"

"They're seconds away. Don't expose yourself. Only cast a spell if you must."

Anya headed back to the alleyway, flicking her wand before she exposed herself. A bright flash of light smothered the alleyway, giving her the precious moments to move across open ground. She looked at the two pursuers shielding their eyes, one of them was next to the dumpster.

"_Confringo_."

Her Blasting Curse flew straight at the two men, who replied with Shield Charms and pistol fire. A snap of her fingers and the runic trap was activated. The explosion from the pursuers' flank caught them by surprise, the dumpster shattered from the blast, peppering one of the pursuers with fragments of metal and plastic. Good spacing saved his partner from the same fate.

Anya ran around a corner, cracks of lead on concrete trailing her. Turning to face the remaining pursuer, she saw an eagle swooping at her, radiating out lines of transfiguration magic.

"_Stupefy_."

The jet of red smashed against the eagle; bright light engulfed her vision and an ear-splitting bang jarred her senses. Transfigured flashbang.

Red lines flickered into her sight and clawing through the disorientation, Anya dove to the side and lifted her wand, trying to get a Shield Charm out. The red lines tightened anyway and she felt a heavy impact smash against her chest before her spell left the wand. Her pursuer was coordinated, he timed the flashbang impeccably. She could only thank the fact that her ballistic vest saved her from a punctured lung.

Anya slashed her wand down as the impact threw her back, spewing out waves of fire as she rolled flush against the wall. It was not Fiendfyre - that would have been the crazy option - but it bought time. Huddling behind an alcove in the alley for cover, she drew out the Fairbairn-Sykes knife Jen had gifted her. She hissed at the pain blossoming from her chest as she drew the knife, there was definitely a cracked rib. A slit across her thumb and she drew out a few runes, using her blood as a cheap source of magical fuel. Though temporarily blinded, muscle memory did the work of correctly writing out the runes on the blade. A Disillusionment Charm on the knife and she was ready. She could hear her pursuer vanishing the flames away.

Taking a deep breath as her vision recovered well enough, Anya burst out from her cover, the incantation of the Shield Charm already rolling off her lips. A wide swipe of her arm and the knife went spinning across the air as a transparent blur.

Bullets sledgehammered against her Shield Charm and she watched as her knife bounced off the preemptive Shield Charm of her opponent. A snap of her finger and the runes glowed white; a blinding flash and loud bang knocked the foe off balance. Tit for tat.

"_DIFFINDO_!"

The pursuer slashed his wand wildly, the spell enhanced and fueled by raw panic. The Severing Charm broke through Anya's shield and connected with her diaphragm. Her breath was knocked out from her as she was thrown onto the ground. Lying on the ground and gasping for air, she drew out her pistol and took aim at the disoriented foe.

"_Reducto_!"

Her spell went off a moment faster than the two rounds she fired. The curse broke the Shield Charm and two rounds slammed against the pursuer's chest, throwing him onto the ground. No blood, her pistol was not strong enough to get past the ballistic vest and warding trinkets the pursuer was wearing underneath.

Grimacing, Anya threw a quick glance at her torso. Her jacket had a large tear across but the lightweight ballistic vest made of dragonhide and kevlar underneath took the blow from the Severing Charm, as did one of the runic discs that provided a passive ward - which was now shattered from the stress of absorbing the spell. Without those aids, she would have been dead with her guts splayed on the alley.

Firing a Stunner at the dazed pursuer, she began walking back to where Astoria was. Her wand and pistol were raised, if the pursuer could take pistol bullets without dying, the first one she got with the runic trap was still alive.

Lines of violent magic emitted from around the corner and Anya got ready. The initial recovered pursuer came from around the corner and both cast their spells at the same time.

"_Reducto_!"

"_Confringo_!"

The spells met midair with an explosive reaction and both braced against the gushing pressure emitted.

"_Stupefy_!"

A familiar voice cried out as Anya saw Astoria cast a Stunning Spell from the back, the red jet of light ricocheted off the passive ward the man had, chipping the wall. Anya could see Astoria gasp in shock and fear as the younger girl threw herself out of sight, dodging a retaliatory curse that flew her way.

"_Diffindo_!"

"_Protego_!"

Anya's Severing Charm was met with a swift response from the pursuer. The Shield Charm was strong enough to rebound the magic back towards her, ripping out the wand from her hand. Scores of cuts sank into her hand, like a hundred razor blades biting into soft tendons, blood blossomed out in a fine spray. Astoria peeked out from her corner and shot a Trip Jinx at the pursuer. The jinx did not connect but it bought the pursuer's attention.

The distraction was enough for Anya, biting through the pain and drawing her backup wand. If this man's shields and wards were this good, it was time for Plan B. Or rather, a hasty semblance of a plan.

"_Fumos_."

Pumping in every ounce of energy into her actions, Anya dashed fast. She dropped the pistol in her hand and reached for the pouches in her ballistic vest.

Bursting out from the smokescreen, she was two feet away from the pursuer. Ducking under a purple curse that soared above her, she tucked her leg behind the pursuer's and tackled him hard, the pursuer gasped in surprise, his jaw dropping. Both went falling on the floor and the hand in her vest pulled out a tube of thermite paste, shoving it in the most convenient place - the pursuer's open mouth. Releasing her grip on the tube, she bought up her hand, closed her eyes and snapped her fingers.

Her face could feel the radiating heat as she rolled off the body. She glanced at Astoria who was staring at the body in shock. She looked back at Anya and gasped.

"Your hand!"

Anya looked at her left hand which was still bleeding, the rebounded cuts were messy but thankfully missed the more important blood vessels. Using her uninjured hand, she took out a vial of brown liquid from her vest, uncorking it and applying several drops. Rubbing the liquid around the injured hand, the wounds slowly closed themselves. Sighing, she faced Astoria.

"In the building, now."

Anya's words left no room for argument as Astoria nodded stiffly. Turning her attention to the dead pursuer, Anya vanished away the thermite before dispelling the fire. Moving to the stunned pursuer, she stripped him of all weapons before reviving him. The man did not have time to react before Anya placed him under an Imperius Curse.

"Get your other partners here," Anya ordered. "Don't let slip anything to them."

The man nodded blankly, before reaching to his enchanted necklace cleverly concealed by a few charms. He spoke in quick bursts of Russian and Anya listened as he gave the other team the all clear signal, instructing them to rendezvous in the alley. Anya made haste and cleaned up the mess left from the fight, transfiguring the corpse into a dead guinea pig and stowing it in a corner. She checked the runic discs her pursuers had. The design was similar to the ones she was issued, but there were differences. The differences were familiar, she saw them all too often back in 1991. Standard issue for Red Spooks. She grimaced, the Reds should have been wiped out by the spring of 1992.

Once done, she masked her presence with layers of concealment spells. The sound of boots on pavement echoing throughout the alley cued the arrival of company. Another pair of men in Muggle clothing walked down the alley, eyes sharp for threats. One of them had a marksman rifle slung on his shoulder, sniper team indeed. The other had a device in his hands, a familiar circular object that bore resemblance to a pocket watch.

Anya stood in their paths, waiting for them to close as her spells hid her from their notice. She had grabbed her pistol and she was waiting, one person to hold under the Imperius Curse and keep for interrogation was dead weight enough, she could already feel him fighting the curse. Their ballistic vest and wards might stop pistol bullets to the chest, but straight at the eye from point blank, that was a different story. Leveling her wand as well, she took aim.

"_Wait_."

"_What_?"

"_There's still heavy magic around here, check the meter here, are you sure it's safe_?"

"_They were in a fight, of course there_-"

"_Reducto_."

The Reductor Curse connected with one of the men's heads as she emptied two bullets through the eye of the other. Both fell back, toppling on the ground before receiving the same clean-up treatment as their partner who had thermite lodged in his mouth. Looking around, Anya saw that the Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards were already removed. The sniper team must have taken them down to move here quickly, or they were opening a window for an extraction party. Anya sighed, she could not take any chances, she had to leave fast.

With the loose ends mostly tied up, she turned her attention to the bewitched pursuer who was staring at blank space. She ordered him through the open door where Astoria was waiting, her wand still held up.

"Is it safe now?"

"For the time being," Anya nodded.

"Him?" Astoria nodded at the man held under the Imperius Curse.

"Source of information. You best get going, the Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards are down," Anya reached into her vest and threw out a coin at Astoria. "That'll take you to the Leaky Cauldron, I'll contact my uncle and get the Russian Aurors here."

Astoria avoided the coin, looking at the twenty pence clattering on the floor and back at Anya, noticing the ballistic vest under the torn jacket and the pistol in her hands. Anya could see the gears spinning in her head, the slight widening of her eye as she realised something.

"Something's not right," Astoria murmured.

Anya stared at her expectantly, observing her keenly.

"So... I'll just go home?"

"Yes."

Silence. It lasted for seconds before Astoria spoke her next words, her grip on her wand tightening.

"Something's not right," Astoria repeated, her voice much firmer. "Wouldn't the Aurors need me as a witness? The Black Mark is a big threat."

Anya groaned in her mind, this was not the side of Astoria she needed.

"I've known Russian Aurors long enough to know that they don't like foreigners meddling in their affairs despite them in foreign soil," Anya replied calmly. "You'll have less shit on your hands."

"Because these people chasing us aren't Black Mark at all, right?"

"Who else would they be?" Anya furrowed her eyebrows.

"The same kind of people as you."

Anya raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Muggle equipment isn't the modus operandi of the Black Mark," said Astoria. "The Aurors never found them using or possessing any. And this man here was using a pistol, with that Muggle armour."

Astoria's eyes flickered to the pistol in Anya's hand and to the vest under her jacket.

"Just like you."

Anya kept silent, watching where Astoria was going. The girl had been exasperatingly accurate so far, Anya was torn between frustration and respect.

"I've tried so long trying to figure this out," Astoria frowned. "But what are you, Anya?"

"What do you think?"

"A special Auror. Like the few in the British Ministry whose identities are kept secret, with special equipment and spells."

Not quite on the spot, not even close to be honest. But that would be the natural assumption.

"Unless, there's something more..."

Anya had half a mind to stun her and cast a Memory Charm on her. But she couldn't. This was her first friend outside of Russia, one she felt at ease with, like being with Jen and Dimitri. But much more than that, there was that expression on Astoria's face when the younger girl was thinking, that slight scrunching of her nose and the look in her eye that was just too familiar.

No. She couldn't. It would have felt like treason.

"There's something bigger going on, isn't it?" Astoria guessed shrewdly.

Anya's silence was like a cue for Astoria to continue.

"Why would special Aurors be hunting after special Aurors? I was never the target, wasn't it? You can't possibly be wanted by Aurors because your uncle is literally in the Russian Aurors and they can't be common criminals because common criminals don't use Muggle technology in tandem with magic like you do. And the ease in which he just repelled our spells, no normal wizard is good enough for that. My spells may not be good indicators but you _hunted_ Krum and Diggory down in the Triwizard Tournament and this man here rebounded your spell with his Shield Charm. If it weren't for all the tricks up your sleeve, these men would have... is there infighting in the Russian Ministry?"

Anya stared at the girl, Astoria was saying all this in front of her. Had she been in her shoes, she would have seen that as a dangerous move. Astoria must have never considered that the wand and pistol in her hand could have been aimed on her. Or Astoria knew she would not. Or she did not care. Naïve, shrewd or reckless. Anya could not tell which was the case.

"There is, isn't there?" Astoria asked, biting her lips. "You're involved and something is going on... all this... special Aurors... those pursuers simply can't be criminals... no, not Black Mark members."

Astoria started pacing, Anya was slightly surprised. Astoria had never gone this far with her thinking, the presence of a real threat in front of her eyes must have done something.

"I just feel like there's something staring in my eyes and I'm not seeing it," Astoria groaned, trying to collect her thoughts. "Not Black Mark members... infighting... Black Mark members can't be this skilled, our Aurors and Hit Wizards are winning small fights left and right... has to be special Russian Aurors chasing us, not Black Mark. The Black Mark never won a fight, draws maybe, but no victories. Wait."

Astoria came to a stop, her eyes suddenly wide with fear.

"They did win one. Zero casualties and three dead British Aurors. Just one. The one fight that brought in the Russians."

Astoria turned to face Anya, taking a trembling step back as her face paled.

"St Helensworth."

Astoria dropped her wand and held her hands up in the air before Anya even raised her wand. Anya's heart might not bear having to stun and wipe Astoria's mind, but her mind knew when a line was crossed and an operation in potential jeopardy. Astoria had just guessed the true nature of something even not all Spooks were privy to.

"Anya, wait!" Astoria gasped. "I'm in."

"What?" Anya cocked her head in confusion.

"I'm saying that I'll be in with you on whatever this is."

Anya paused and stared at Astoria, who was - though trembling - staring at Anya with grit and determination.

"Why?"

"Russia is playing a game, isn't it? You basically confirmed the true nature of St Helensworth and with the effects of the St Helensworth Agreement in place, who knows what can happen."

Astoria took a brave step forward as she carried on.

"The British Ministry is too corrupt to stop this game and something big will change. And if it's going to change regardless, then I want to help make sure my family and I aren't jeopardised by this change. Only way to do this is to pick a side."

"And why choose my side?" Anya asked, still keeping her wand pointed between Astoria's eyes.

Astoria took another step forward and opened her arms wide.

"Cause I pick the side with a person who I trust my life with. You."

"You don't even know what you're getting into," Anya sighed softly.

"Bloodshed and clandestine dealings that would give Professor Moody a heart attack. I don't care."

"Awfully brave of you."

"This isn't bravery," Astoria snorted. "Bravery is trying to stop the game Russia is playing. This is playing along."

Anya glanced at the Imperised man and back at Astoria. Aleks did mention that having the Greengrass on their side was beneficial and Astoria handled herself very well. She did not allow panic to overwhelm her and followed instructions properly despite being thrown headfirst into this mess.

"Fine. You should still go home regardless."

"No use trying to shelter me, Anya," Astoria folded her arms and glared at Anya. "I'm already getting involved."

"That was not a request," Anya said softly.

Her cold stare sent a shiver down Astoria's spine. The younger girl backed off heading to the coin that still laid on the floor.

"You'll still meet up with me, right?" Astoria asked with uncertainty.

Anya sized her up before giving a curt nod.

"Naturally. Now get the portkey already."

Astoria obliged, disappearing as she touched the coin on the floor. Anya heaved a sign before a slight spasm went through her. She turned to the person with a grimace, he was fighting the Imperius Curse, just a few steps from throwing it off.

"_Incarcerous. Locomotor Mortis. Accio weapons. Accio communication equipment. Protego._"

She cast out various spells, taking no chances in securing her prisoner. To finish it up, she took out her chalk once more and drew a circle of runes around him.

Not a moment too soon as the pursuer jerked out of his daze, finally throwing off the Imperius Curse. He gave a futile struggle against the spells binding him. He stared at Anya and narrowed his eyes.

"_I couldn't believe the rumours_," he spat bitterly in Russian. "_Greyhound's Demons are real. What do you want_?"

"_Fulgur_."

Arcs of lightning snaked around the man, sending howls of pain rebounding around the walls. His body was racked with wild spasms as his eyes bulged from the pain. Swishing her wand about, Anya kept the spell up for a minute, waiting for the pain to fully sink in. When the man had run out of voice screaming, Anya finally dropped the spell.

"_You bitch_," the pursuer coughed out. "_You'll have to try harder than_-"

"_Fulgur_."

Another wave of screams came out, more hoarse than before.

"_Patiently waiting_," Anya muttered.

"_Fuck you_-"

"_Fulgur_."

"_F-fuck you_-"

"_Fulgur_."

"_FUCK! STOP IT_-"

"_Fulgur_."

"_Whore!_" the man yelled. "_You're going to kill me at the end, so just DO IT!_"

"Fulgur. _Like I said, I'm waiting_."

The man gasped in pain as he struggled to grab the air his lungs were craving. Fighting to compose himself, he stared into Anya's eyes and gave a crooked grin. Despite his smile, Anya could see the hollow look in his eyes, he had already committed himself to dying.

"_I have all day, girl_," the man spat. "_But you don't_."

Anya ceased her spell, staring deep into the eyes of the man. He had a point, she had to leave this place as soon as possible. The place was not safe and she had to admit that she was not confident in bringing the man back as a prisoner. Even shackled and tied down, Spooks were not safe. She gave the man a nod and lifted her wand once more.

"_Diffindo_."


	29. Chapter 29 - Grimmauld Place

**AN: Here's another one. Not much action but as much as I struggle with non-action chapters they're still needed.**

**JohnMonty: Harry will definitely see some character development when he spends time with Anya, both in mindset and abilities, but it's going to take a while for that to happen.**

* * *

Chapter 29 - Grimmauld Place

Harry watched as the car reversed out from the porch and to the street, driving down the sunset road until it was out of sight. He closed the front door, walking to the kitchen and raiding the fridge without a care in the world. Much like how the Dursleys first found out about Sirius being his godfather, having Anya threaten them at gunpoint had caused the Dursleys to leave him alone and give him the freedom to act as he pleased. Merlin be damned if he was not going to take advantage of it.

_What was it? Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition? Goodness, the things people come up with._

Finishing his snack and heading back to his room, he watched idly as the sun began to set. There was nothing else to do. Harry sighed, heading to bed. A hooting sound grabbed his attention.

"Hey Hedwig, quiet day, huh? Well, at least you've been busy."

He watched listlessly as his snowy owl gobbled down the mouse caught between her beak. Sending letters to Sirius, Ron and Hermione had been tempting, but he refrained from doing so. Anne's advice had been to sit still and wait for the storm to blow over. She had never given bad advice and nobody really gave a proper response to his letters so in the end, there was no point. He bit the insides of his cheeks. He felt too calm to be normal. Honestly, Anne must have rubbed off on him.

A crashing sound jerked him out from his listless daze. It was too early for the Dursleys to be back. He grabbed the Nokia lying on the table, no messages from Anne, she would have sent him a message if she was coming. That left one unsavoury conclusion, burglars.

"Come on Hedwig, out you go. I don't want you in danger."

Harry opened the window and Hedwig stretched her wings before flying out. Grabbing his wand, he fingered the coin portkey in his pocket that Anne had given him. Burglars should not be a problem, a Stunning Spell or two would resolve the whole issue, but magic was forbidden. One recent stain on his record was bad enough.

A call to the police would be a good option too, but if it turned out to be the Dursleys coming home early and not burglars, he would never hear the end of it. He heard a creak of the loose staircase being stepped on. They were coming up. Aiming his wand at the door, he waited in anticipation as the door slowly opened.

"Lower that wand, boy, before you take somebody's eye out."

That low growing voice sounded familiar, but Harry still kept his wand up.

"Professor Moody?"

"Don't know so much about 'Professor', never got around teaching after all," Moody growled. "Get over here, we want a good look at you."

Given Moody's track record of being impersonated, Anne's warning about the Ministry placing an assassination order after him and the Dementors, Harry was not keen on lowering his guard.

"It's alright Harry, we're just here to get you out."

Another familiar voice.

"Professor Lupin?"

"Not really a professor anymore," Lupin gave a wry chuckle.

"Why are we all standing here, talking in the dark?"

This voice was unfamiliar, but that same voice muttered out the word _'Lumos_' and a soft glow lit up the room. Harry stared in surprise at the motley band of wizards and witches standing before him.

"You're right Remus, he looks just like James," said a bald black wizard.

"But with Lily's eyes," added a witch beside him.

One absolutely confusing whirlwind of introductions later, Harry found himself involved in a dizzying circumstance. Words like safety, Ministry and compromised reached his brain in a garbled mess. Soon enough, Harry was mounting his Firebolt at the porch of the house, surrounded by his escorts.

'Wouldn't be at Privet Drive. Moving to somewhere safe.'

He checked the message on his phone before sending it, no point having Anne swing by for nothing.

"There's the signal," said Lupin, pointing at the green sparks flying in the distance.

Everyone began moving, kicking off the ground and into the skies with Moody leading the pack. Harry looked around and saw that they had formed a protective circle around him.

The flight was uncomfortable to put it lightly, agonising to put it bluntly. Harry wished he had the foresight to request for a Cushioning Charm and a Warming Charm which would have made the journey infinitely more comfortable.

Wishing only for the comfort of hot shower, warm food and bed, Harry was glad when Moody finally gave the order to start descending. A part of him wondered why they had not utilised a portkey, they said that an unauthorised portkey was illegal but Anne threw those out like spare cash - quite literally - without getting caught. Then again, she was not caught for underage magic to begin with.

They had landed somewhere in London, Moody passed him a piece of parchment.

"Read quickly and memorise."

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

"The Headquarters of the-"

"Don't read it out loud, boy," Moody growled. "Not safe out here, come on. Follow us."

Moody took back the piece of parchment, setting it alight with a prod of his wand. Vanishing the ashes, he led the group to the row of townhouses in front of them. Harry could see number eleven and number thirteen, but no twelve.

"Uh..."

"Think about what you've just read, Harry," prompted Lupin.

As soon as his mind reached 'number twelve, Grimmauld Place', an additional building came out from seemingly nowhere, pushing houses number eleven and thirteen aside.

Harry's jaw dropped as the rest of his entourage moved towards it. He followed along, nodding a quick thanks to Lupin who held the door for him as he entered. The place was dark, dusty and dirty with cobwebs everywhere.

"Harry. So good to see you," Mrs Weasley said softly as she appeared from a doorway, drawing Harry into a tight hug. "I trust that the journey was fine."

"Thoroughly unpleasant but no problems," Tonks sighed. "Is everyone here?"

"Yes, we were just waiting for you guys to arrive. The meeting is about to start."

Harry followed everyone else to what appeared to be a dining room but he was stopped by Mrs Weasley at the door.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but the meeting is for Order members only. I'm sure Ron and Hermione are waiting for you upstairs, just don't enter any locked rooms. Your room's on the second landing, on the right, you'll be sharing with Ron."

Harry nodded and made for the stairs, looking back as the doors to the dining room closed shut. He was still confused about everything. Going up, he looked around at the house's decor, grumpy wizards stared ominously at him from their portraits and a row of house elf heads hung on the wall. This placed seemed completely demented on multiple levels. Reaching his room, he entered it only to be tackled by a tight hug from Hermione. Ron sat at the back, giving him a grin.

"Harry! You're here! We were so worried. Dementors! And the hearing- how could they! But they can't possibly expel you. I checked it and there are clauses in the law where you can use underage magic in life threatening situations. I'm so sorry we could write back- Dumbledore wouldn't allow us. You must be so angry at us! I'm so sorry."

"Goodness Hermione," Ron chuckled. "Giving him some breathing room. How are you, mate? We really wanted to send the letter but-"

"Dumbledore said, I know," Harry cut in coldly. "You'd think I realised the pattern."

Ron and Hermione flinched at the cold tone, sharing a look and ducking their heads in guilt. Harry could not find it in himself to blow up in front of them, he supposed he would have had it not been for his periodic excursions with Anne, allowing him to vent out all the pent up steam through talking with her - regardless of how one sided the conservations could sometimes be. However, that was not going to stop him from giving them the cold shoulder.

"Look Harry, we are really really sorry that-"

Harry held up his hand to stop Hermione's rambling.

"Just... don't talk about it."

Both his friends nodded, looking at him anxiously.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place," Ron answered immediately. "Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix."

"And what is this Order?"

"Dumbledore founded it during the first war against You-Know-Who, it's supposed to be like a secret organisation to fight against him."

"And what's been going on?" Harry pressed.

"With what?"

"Everything!" Harry exclaimed, desperate for information he sorely lacked. "Voldemort! What is he doing!?"

"Well... we don't really know," Hermione shifted uneasily. "We're not exactly allowed in their meetings."

"They did mention something about guard duty," Ron added.

"Couldn't have been about me now, couldn't it?"

Silenced reigned the room as Harry laid down on the musty bed, sighing to himself.

"Anything else the Order has been doing that you happen to know?"

"Well, they have been trying to inform the people about the return of You-Know-Who," said Hermione.

"Yeah... but that's been a bit hard," said Ron.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked quizzically, sitting back up. "Why is it hard? Professor Dumbledore told everyone the whole thing before we left for the summer holidays."

"That's the thing actually," Hermione replied. "The Ministry has been getting the _Daily Prophet _to counter that, I mean you have read-"

"What? The _Daily Prophet_?" Harry interrupted with a puzzled look.

"You have read them, right?"

"Just the covers, all the important bits would be there," Harry shrugged.

"They've been mocking you and Dumbledore, mate," Ron said bluntly. "What? I am not wrong, Hermione."

"What do you mean by mocking?"

Hermione took her withering glare away from Ron and answered the question. "They just have these side articles where they write offhand comments about you and Dumbledore, saying that you're an attention seeker and Dumbledore has gone senile."

"Who? Rita Skeeter?" Harry spat venomously, upon seeing Hermione's timid nod he scowled. "I thought you dealt with her."

"I thought I did," Hermione grumbled. "I dropped the Ministry a note when I saw her writing those toxic articles again, but they replied saying that she had been a registered animagus. I think Rita Skeeter just registered for an animagus at first opportunity, but why would the Ministry just accept that without any questioning or investigation and charge her for breaching the privacy of others given her muckraking record- oh wait! It's the Ministry."

"Told you we should have fed the beetle to Crookshanks," Ron quipped.

Harry groaned, not Rita Skeeter again. He had enough of that hag in Fourth Year, he could already imagine the contents of the articles.

"Ron, Hermione- oh, you're here, Harry," Ginny appeared at the doorway. "Mom says it's time for dinner."

"Ugh, best get going," said Ron. "At least Snape doesn't eat here with us."

**XXXXX**

Dinner was good, Harry was sure there was not a meal that could top Mrs Weasley's. At the moment, everyone was at a post-meal stage, simply lounging on their seats and nibbling on desserts.

"So how was your summer?" Sirius asked, he looked much healthier compared to the last time Harry had seen him.

"Alright I guess," Harry answered. "Just a few smatterings of lousiness here and there."

"Don't know what you're complaining about," Sirius gave a slight grin.

"Are you taking the mickey?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Not at all," Sirius stretched his arms. "A nice Dementor attack would have broken the monotony just fine. You try sitting your arse here the entire summer with nothing productive to do."

"Ministry still out for you?"

"Yep. Not that bad with Kingsley feeding false information to the Aurors - he's in charge of catching me. But Dumbledore still thinks it's too dangerous for me."

Harry heard the bitterness in Sirius' voice and felt a surge of affection for his godfather, he could empathise after all.

"I know all too well," Harry raised his cup of butterbeer.

"Of course you do," Sirius gave a bitter bark of laughter, clinking his own cup of butterbeer with Harry's.

There was a moment of silence between them as Sirius nursed his butterbeer.

"Harry," Sirius whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Should we tell Moony?"

"About what?"

"Her."

"Oh... yeah... shit, that's a dilemma. He wasn't there was he?"

"Heh, no need to tell me that." Sirius shook his head. "Been tearing me up for some time now. He deserves to know too, much more than Snivellus that's for sure."

"I'll ask her the next time I see her."

"The next time?" Sirius asked shrewdly.

"I've met her," Harry said evasively. "Just... on and off throughout the summer."

Sirius frowned. "The Order has been keeping watch on you throughout the summer."

"Uh..." Harry stalled slightly, but knowing Sirius, he decided to just run with it. "You do know you're talking about the two children of a Marauder?"

Sirius blinked once, then twice, and he snorted into his butterbeer, shaking his head.

"Prongs, you would have been so proud," he muttered to himself with a grin. "I'd recommend keeping that a secret, but you're going to have to tell me how the two of you accomplished that."

"Sure," Harry smiled, reminiscing the moments he got to spend with Anne.

"That explains why you aren't that glum."

"Jealous?" Harry ribbed jokingly.

"Screw off," Sirius chuckled.

From the other end of the dining room, Ginny let out a large yawn.

"Time for bed, I think," Mrs Weasley called out.

"Not yet," said Sirius. "You know Harry, I'm surprised. I thought the first thing you would do here is to start asking about Voldemort."

The mood in the dining room changed perceptibly, everyone tensed up.

"I did," Harry exclaimed. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said you have to be in the Order."

Mrs Weasley stepped in, Sirius replied in kind. One thing led to another and Harry watched as the dining room descended into a verbal spar. The Weasley twins were arguing. Ron, Hermione and Ginny joined in. Mr Weasley and Lupin gave their thoughts and the argument was settled, though the atmosphere remained just as tense. But finally, Harry was allowed Order information, information he had been starved from.

The situation was simple but problematic. Voldemort was simply trying to consolidate his power and prepare for the incoming open war. The Order in turn was conducting subterfuge and sabotage operations against Voldemort, trying to convince people that Voldemort had returned. However, hurdles came in the form of nobody believing that Voldemort had returned, with the Ministry discrediting Dumbledore and Harry.

"On top of that there's the Russians," said Mr Weasley.

"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked.

"They grabbed the entirety of Britain's attention," explained Lupin. "It's even harder to convince people that Voldemort came back. They'll just say it was the Russians, the Black Mark syndicate."

"And that provides You-Know-Who more free room to move about," Mr Weasley added.

"You don't think they're working for Voldemort?" Harry asked nervously.

"There's a possibility," Lupin nodded. "We have information of cooperation between them and some people in the Russian Ministry, it would be safe to assume that Voldemort's taking the opportunity to infiltrate the Russians as well."

"Oh," Harry sighed. "And what are the Russians doing?"

"We don't keep as much of a close eye," said Bill. "But so far, they have been doing their own thing, handling the Black Mark and building ties with Britain."

"Is there anything else regarding Voldemort?"

"Yes," said Sirius. "He's after something."

"Something?"

"Yes, something he couldn't obtain back when he was in the height of his power. A kind of weapon, something-"

"I think that's enough," said Mrs Weasley. "More information and you'd might as well induct him into the Order."

"Why not?" Harry exclaimed. "I want to join. I want to fight."

All around him the teenagers nodded vigorously as well.

"You're too young," Mrs Weasley insisted.

"Mom, age doesn't mean you can't do anything," Ron cried out. "Harry's faced You-Know-Who and he still comes out on top."

"Ronald, it's not about what you can or cannot do," Mrs Weasley shook her head. "It's final, you are all too young."

"What!?" Fred yelped. "Where's the logic in that?"

George opened his mouth but Mr Weasley cut him off.

"What your mother meant was," he said calmly. "She is very worried about all your safety and nobody wants to see their children dead on a battlefield. Ron, you're right, Harry has faced a lot. But we are not here to promote child soldiers."

A ripple of uneasy silence went across the room, Ron shifting nervously in his seat.

"Everyone in the Order is putting their lives on the line just so that none of you here will ever have to sully your hands with blood," Mr Weasley finished slowly, letting his words sink in. "Is that clear, everyone?"

A soft chorus of 'yes, dad' came from the redheads.

"Bed time, I think," said Lupin, ending the tension.

Everyone got up from their seat and left the dining room, leaving Mrs Weasley, Sirius and Lupin to tidy up the dishes.

"Mate, that was..." said Ron as they climbed up the stairs.

"Yeah, I know," said George who was behind him. "Never feels good when dad's actually serious."

"Come on, let's move along before mom blows up even more," muttered Fred.

There was a unanimous decision to gather in the room Harry and Ron shared. Harry and Ron sat on their own beds, the twins plopped themselves on Ron's bed while Hermione drew a chair for herself.

"Well, we've heard most of it from the Extendable Ears," said Fred.

"Just the weapon Sirius let slip," said George. "That one's new."

"What'd you reckon that one is?" Ron asked.

"Don't honestly know what else You-Know-Who needs," Harry muttered.

"True," Fred nodded. "He has the Killing Curse."

"And the Cruciatus Curse," George continued. "What more could a dark lord want?"

"An efficient method for systematic mass murder?" Hermione shrugged. "Sorry, that was a bit dark. You-Know-Who just reminds me of a certain fascist leader."

"What's a fascist?" the Weasleys chorused.

"Well, it's-"

"Hush," Fred interrupted Hermione, bringing a finger to his lips. "I think I heard mom."

"We'd best get going then," said George.

The twins leapt off the bed and spun on the spot, disapparating away to their rooms. The pitter-patter that the twins heard grew louder and Hermione gave a muffled squeak.

Thinking fast, Harry dug into his trunk and threw his invisibility cloak to Hermione who vanished under it. Following Ron's lead, he ducked under the blankets and feigned sleep. The door creaked open shortly and Harry could spy Mrs Weasley peeking through the crack. Apparently satisfied, the door closed and the trio came out from their hiding spots.

"But... the weapon," Ron asked. "Any ideas?"

"Something he couldn't get during his height of power," Harry echoed Sirius' words. "What couldn't he get during the height of his power?"

"Hogwarts?" Hermione suggested.

"Thanks Hermione," Ron shuddered. "Now I feel perfectly safe going back there when school starts."

"You _will_ be safe," Hermione retorted. "Professor Dumbledore will be there."

"Honestly," said Ron worriedly. "How long before the Ministry kicks him out from Hogwarts too?"

"They can't do that," Hermione cried, scandalised. "The Ministry has no control in who acts as the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Yeah, sure," Ron shot back. "I don't know but I doubt the Ministry has control on who acts as the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW - mind you, 'I' stands for international - and look at what still happened."

Hermione gave a worried sigh. Harry kept silent, staring blankly at the space between his two friends. His mind was slowly wondering away when he heard Dumbledore's name, recalling a set of similar and familiar green eyes.

"Harry, Harry?"

Hermione's voice broke him out from his trance.

"Huh, yes?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes-"

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

There was no further elaboration as to who 'her' was, they both knew what the subject was.

"How would you know?" Harry asked defensively.

"The look on your face," Hermione mumbled. "It's kind of obvious. You're worried aren't you?"

"Kind of hard not to," Harry sighed, shifting about uncomfortably.

He realised he was uncomfortable talking about Anne with his friends. It was like a family thing. Sure, Ron and Hermione had been great - though not as much with the recent 'not answering his letters issue' - but there was always a line between family and friends. He never knew it until he started receiving letters from Sirius, the closest he had to a family. With Anne, the distinction grew bigger, being with Anne and being with Ron and Hermione had been two mutually exclusive things.

"The Black Mark problem?" Hermione prompted.

"It's just... she left Russia, came here as... with..."

Harry fumbled for the right words as his friends waited patiently, doing their best to repay for the cold shoulder they had given him the whole summer.

"I just thought she was finally safe here in Britain, but it's like Russia caught up with her."

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione said softly.

Ron thumped him in the back sympathetically. "Come on mate, your sister's tough. You've seen her carry herself in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Not like it's really safer here with Voldemort," Harry spat bitterly.

"You can't say it's safer back in Russia," Hermione said indignantly. "I've read up the wizarding history of Russia, she grew up in a civil war."

"But how did she even end up there?" Ron asked. "Russia is a long way from Britain."

Now that was a topic Harry did not even want to approach. Instead, he laid back down on the bed and gave a groan.

"I'm tired," he said. "Let's continue this tomorrow or something."

Ron and Hermione nodded, the latter standing up and tiptoeing out of the room to avoid the attention of Mrs Weasley. Ron bade him goodnight before ducking snuggling the best he could into the musty beds of Grimmauld Place.

Harry stared at the ceiling as he slowly allowed the gentle embrace of sleep to take over him, thoughts still lingering on Anne. Eventually, dreams occupied his mind in a dizzying whirlwind of Hogwarts, family and that long corridor he kept trying to enter.

He woke up the next day to find Hedwig nibbling his ear rousing him gently from his sleep. He sat himself up and stroked the owl's feathers before said owl gave a soft hoot and flew back to her cage. Harry grinned, reminding himself to get the smart owl some treats soon, she had figured out where to go on her own.

A few minutes to freshen himself up, change into new clothes and he was ready to head downstairs for breakfast. Harry checked his phone and to his dismay, Anne had not answered. There was either too much magic in Grimmauld Place or she had not replied. Passing by a muttering Kreacher, Harry entered the dining room to find Sirius already lounging at the table. The sizzling of what sounded like bacon emanated from the direction of the kitchen, likely the work of Mrs Weasley.

"Morning to you," Sirius nodded, raising his mug of coffee in greeting. "Molly's made most of the breakfast already, tuck in."

Harry nodded, taking a seat. Sirius promptly drew his wand and gave a casual flick.

"_Muffliato_."

"What was that?" Harry asked, accepting the plate of french toast that Sirius pushed towards him.

"An old spell from my Hogwarts days," Sirius grinned. "Mostly to chat with your dad in classes without being caught."

Harry threw a glance at the kitchens and gave a grin of his own.

"Neat."

"So... how has Anne been?" Sirius asked, lines of worry making its way to his forehead.

"Fine," Harry answered. "She honestly seemed much better outside of Hogwarts."

"Really?" a look of relief washed over Sirius. "How did you two sneak under the Order's nose? How did you two even contact one another? We watched all forms of communication."

Despite the reminder of the Order watching him without consent, Harry found himself grinning smugly, Sirius saw the grin.

"Don't think so highly of yourself Harry," Sirius snorted in amusement. "If I had been there, I would've caught the two of you easily."

Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out his Nokia, sliding it into Sirius' reach. Sirius caught the phone and stared at it for a full five seconds. Then, he burst out laughing.

"Merlin's sake," said Sirius. "That's genius! Bloody simple but genius! You even fooled Moody with that! I can imagine the look on his face if he ever finds out."

Harry ate his french toast with content as he watched Sirius shake his head in amusement.

"If that's how you two communicate, I can't imagine how you two snuck past your guards undetected."

"Me too."

"Huh?"

"It's always Anne who snuck me out, if you could even call that sneaking."

"Why? What does she do?" Sirius frowned.

"Called me to let me know she's free," Harry answered. "Then, she meets me at the nearby playground and we just walk out from there."

"Surely someone would have noticed," said Sirius. "You would have to..."

Sirius paused halfway, a realisation dawning upon him.

"Sirius, what?"

"You would have to incapacitate your guards undetected to simply walk out unnoticed. But she couldn't have."

Sirius locked his gaze at Harry who began to fidget, nervously ruffling the hair at the back of his head.

"She told me she hit Mr Weasley with a sleeping spell when we first met."

"She what!" Sirius yelled, bringing his hand up to palm his face.

"Merlin's sake," Sirius groaned. "She should have never grown up in Russia, she should have been by your side."

His words stirred up a memory in Harry's mind, Anne's words when she was making dinner for the both of them.

"We have Dumbledore to thank for that," Harry spat venomously.

"You found out as well?" Sirius grimaced.

"You knew?"

"How else did Anne end up in Russia when I entrusted both of you to Dumbledore? Took awhile to realise that but it eventually happened."

"And Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"I've had words with him," Sirius said grimly. "A few disagreements here and there, but he would never be endangering Anne again."

Harry gave his godfather a small smile, glad that Sirius was doing his best to protect those he cared for.

"But enough about that," Sirius shook his head, grinning again. "What have the two of you been doing?"

"Nothing spectacular," Harry chuckled. "Just wandering the neighborhood and the town."

"We have the whole day for you to share stories," Sirius gave a smile.


	30. Chapter 30 - Hearing

AN: Once again, another Vergilius storyline chapter. Do forgive me if these chapters seem dry.

JohnMonty: Give it two more chapters and it's back to Hogwarts. Harry would likely be doing the Dumbledore Army thing, but for his own personal reasons if he ever does.

Lilomaus223: Anya will be meeting the Order, no doubt about that :). That is basically brimming with potential character interactions to write about.

* * *

Chapter 30 - Hearing

Vergilius travelled east, slipping through miles of trenches before he reached the German heartlands. There were several places of attraction, but none as awe-inspiring as Italy. He had met a rising genius who went by the name of Gellert Grindelwald. He was young, ambitious and powerful, the Continental counterpart of the young prodigy named Albus Dumbledore. Even at their young age, they were said to be the upcoming Merlins of the twentieth century. Vergilius could respect that.

They traded notes as fellow academics, shared stories as Grindelwald eagerly sought out the words a senior had to offer, but Vergilius moved on. He had heard whispers further east, a stirring, change. He had to see it. Vergilius took the first international portkey he could get to Petrograd, Russia took one glance at his aristocratic status and welcomed him with open arms.

He walked the Muggle streets, always fond of seeing the other world. The week he spent in Ypres watching the Muggle armies fight filled his mind with countless thoughts. And as he travelled east towards Russia he began to slowly understand the global scope of Muggle wars.

Men from as far as Australia were fighting on Belgian soil against the Germans because an Austrian archduke was murdered.

The World War.

It was a name more apt than the 'war to end all wars'.

His sharp grey eyes scanned the place around him, the buildings, the people and the atmosphere. One thing stood out, brimming from the eyes of the common folk around.

Dissent. Dissatisfaction. Disillusionment.

The gloom blanketed the air, being with one with the people. It bore similarities to the streets of London back home, with the glaring difference that it was a thousand times worse in here. The toll of the Muggle war seemed heavier here, or it could have been that Vergilius grew used to London, having worked there.

It only took a few questions here and there before Vergilius realised the glaring problems of inflation and food shortage. The war had hit the Russian Empire hard indeed.

The frustration of it all was directed at the Tsar, Vergilius snorted at the discovery, always one to take enjoyment at the fall of aristocracy. The conditions here seemed all too similar to the French Revolution. The Muggle war only served to fan the flames of discontent.

What was that Muggle term? Russia was a powder keg.

Turning down an alleyway the Muggles seemed to ignore, Vergilius drew his wand and rapped it on a lamppost. On the metal surface of the lamppost was a drawing of an eye, scratched on the metal like the handiwork of a child. The eye blinked.

Vergilius continued down the short distance to the end of the alleyway where a door stood. If anyone tried to open the door without activating the lamppost, he or she would have been met with a dusty old bookshop manned by an old Squib working in the Russian Muggleborn Relations Office, waiting to welcome any Muggleborns new to the Wizarding World who did not know to activate the lamppost.

In Vergilius' case, the door opened to reveal a crowded street not unlike Diagon Alley. A panoply of sights, sounds and smells greeted him. Smoke of varying colours plumed from many of the buildings, vermilion, violet and viridian. As Vergilius walked, he could see many apothecaries and potion shops buzzing with activity, potions was one of the chief exports of Wizarding Russia after all.

However, though the streets were abuzz with activity, the stale air of discontent hung thickly. Vergilius could spot a tattered witch sitting at the roadside, her two children huddled in her arms. A group of squat wizards were muttering in angry tones, not the first group he had seen.

And amidst the crowds of normal wizards and witches, Vergilius could clearly make out the few individuals who strolled down the middle of the streets with impunity. Their confident gait and rich silks marked them out as members of Wizarding Russia's aristocracy. Vergilius could just as clearly make out the heated and venomous looks that the passersby threw at them.

Apparently, it was not just the Muggle side of Russia that bore ill will towards the aristocracy, the wizarding side had a similar climate. Vergilius did not know whether to smile or grimace, it was a powder keg indeed. A discontent Muggle populace was one thing, same can be said of a discontent wizarding populace. However, having both the Muggle and wizarding populace angry towards the same thing, that was the recipe for the French Revolution. This was about to be history repeated.

Vergilius took a turn into a food stall, digging into the coins in his pocket, not the ones from Gringotts but the local Russian wizarding currency. He spied the board and he could see previous pricings hastily scratched off by chalk, each price higher than before. Immediately, Vergilius could draw two conclusions.

Firstly, inflation was rampant even in the wizarding side. He had heard that several of the aristocracy were granted the authority to mint their own coins, a privilege that - despite its glaring economic problems - allowed various noble houses to form solid political relations due to the mutual trust the privilege created. A unique and unorthodox system, but one that had unified many of the Russian houses. However, the costs began to outweigh the benefits in recent decades.

Secondly, the fact that the stall owner crossed out the old prices with chalk instead of vanishing them spoke volumes of the level of education afforded to the masses. If this was the standard of spells among the wizards and witches of Russia, then Vergilius could easily understand why Wizarding Russia was always pushed around in the ICW.

International conflict between wizarding countries the current era boiled down to which countries being able to exert the most influence. This meant the calibre of the Aurors and Hit Wizards of a country, their control on the market of magical goods and the magical potency of the average witches and wizards of the country. If the average wizard could not cast a spell that was a core OWL requisite in Britain, then Russia did not nurture the witches and wizards required to become an influential country.

A loud cry brought Vergilius from his musing, he looked up to see a small gathering by the roadside. Curious, he made his way over. A wizard stood atop a crate, tall and proud with an even prouder beard. Vergilius snorted at the man's uncanny similarity to the Muggle Father Christmas, though standing with much more vigour.

"_How much longer can we stand for this_?" the man asked the crowd, his Russian sounding coarse to Vergilius' ears but his booming voice still clearly heard. "_This inequality and injustice would only bring our country down! Look at the papers and the signs are clear, Russia is weak, our homeland is weak. Why? Because we spend every moment of our lives serving the aristocracy! For what? Their indulgence! They spend our hard work on their indulgence instead of making our country and our lives better_."

A wave of mutterings spread through the crowd, Vergilius could see nodding heads all around.

"_And should we serve them if this is how they treat us?_" the man exclaimed. "_The nobles serve us just as we serve them! We provide them our hard work and in return they provide us protection. If they do not hold their end of the bargain, should we? How is a country supposed to progress this way? How are we to live our lives if this goes on?_"

Vergilius gave a silent chuckle and nodded his head in respect. That man had a point, the very point he had raised to his friend over dinner back in London. He would have to thank Scott for recommending him to travel around Europe for fresh air, the things he got to witness were worth it. But more than a point, that man had nerves of steel. Speaking out against the ruling party in broad daylight and in the centre of the Russian capital's magical district, that took courage, recklessness or sheer stupidity. That man truly was a firebrand, a rare sight among wizards and witches.

From the side, Vergilius could already see two Russian enforcers making their way to the crowd, wands at the ready. Vergilius pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, making his way to intercept them. He blended into the crowd as though it was second nature, slipping swiftly between people.

A quick glance at the firebrand and Vergilius could see a furrowing of eyebrows and an angry twitch of the lips, he noticed the enforcers as well. Before the firebrand could do anything about it, Vergilius was already behind the two enforcers. Two deft flicks of his wand and the enforcers fell under his Confundus Charm, stumbling away.

Another glance at the firebrand, the bearded man was wearing a bright grin now, giving Vergilius a nod. Vergilius replied the nod and once more leaned against a nearby wall, continuing to listen to the man's speech as the crowd grew larger.

**XXXXX**

The lion chased the deer to its den.

Harry grimaced as the words Anne had spoken echoed in his head. A court hearing at the young age of fifteen. Well, if or when he had children, he sure would have stories for them. He did not feel safe, not one bit.

He never voiced his concerns to anyone, except for Sirius, he could count on him to not take him as paranoid.

_"Sirius."_

_"Yes, Harry?"_

_"The hearing... I don't feel safe there."_

_"Relax, stick to the facts and they'll have to let you off."_

_"No, it's just that... I think it was the Ministry that sent those Dementors. They wanted to silence me after all."_

_"That's too far, the Ministry would never go that far, they're too cowardly. We already know the extent of Voldemort's infiltration, it was him."_

_"But... that still means someone in the Ministry had the capacity to order Dementors after me, be it under Voldemort's orders or the Ministry itself."_

Harry remembered Sirius simply pondering over Harry's words. The next day, he passed him an emergency portkey, just like the one Anne had done for him.

"It's going to be alright," Sirius reassured Harry who was currently attacked by a comb in Mrs Weasley's hands. "Shacklebolt is going to be there, I've told him to keep an eye on you."

Harry nodded mutely, accepting the toast that Ron passed him. Stuffing it in mouth before he said something he would regret, he waved goodbye to the residents of Grimmauld Place before following Mr Weasley into the streets of London.

**XXXXX**

"_That was rather kind of you_," the tall firebrand approached Vergilius.

The crowd was almost clearing out but Vergilius had stayed put leaning against the wall.

"_Small matter_," Vergilius nodded, Russian words rolling off his lips fluently. "_It would have been a shame to have your speech interrupted_."

"_Those pests grow more annoying with each passing day_," the firebrand grumbled. "_Silencing someone only proves they have something worthwhile to hide._"

The firebrand delved into further grumbling before shaking it off with a booming laugh.

"_Ah... it matters not. Where are my manners?_" the firebrand offered Vergilius his hand. "_Pyotr_."

Vergilius took the hand. "_Augustus_."

"_Come, Augustus, let me buy you a drink_," said Pyotr. "_I believe it would be refreshing to have a conversation with one such as yourself_."

Vergilius allowed himself to be led by his new acquaintance, following the tall figure down the winding roads of Petrograd's magical district. The man seemed interesting enough and Vergilius certainly did not mind having a conversation with this man.

"_What did you think of my speech?_" Pyotr asked, eyeing Vergilius curiously.

"_You raised valid points and delivered them passionately,_" Vergilius replied concisely.

Pyotr gave a rumbling laugh, shaking his head. "_You could use that exact same line for many questions_."

"_And I have_," Vergilius gave a slight grin.

A slight pause before Pyotr finally said. "_And that meant I was asking you to elaborate_."

"_Well, you certainly have an open-minded way of thinking_," Vergilius explained. "_You see the waning benefits of the aristocracy and the requirements for a nation to progress._"

"_Anyone who is not part of the aristocracy could see their waning benefits_."

"_Indeed, but many people seem to forget that those who rule still serve those beneath them._"

"_True_," Pyotr nodded. "_Many do indeed forget. And just as many forget the importance of making progress in magic, they all think magic is absolute, that old spells are more than enough. But no! They are wrong, look at our country and how it fares in the ICW. We never progressed and now see how the other countries tear us up_."

"_It isn't the aristocracy that feels the pain_," Vergilius shook his head. "_That's why they don't change_."

"_Exactly!_" Pyotr exclaimed. "_And- ah, here we are_."

Vergilius found himself standing in front of a nondescript red building, sandwiched between two apothecaries. Vergilius could not pick out anything special from it, although he knew the truth to be likely different. Following Pyotr, his breath was squeezed from his lungs as he approached the door.

He anticipated wards, but not of such a calibre. Recovering his lost breath, he followed Pyotr with much greater curiosity than before.

"_Brothers!_" Pyotr said without preamble as he threw the doors open. "_I've found a new friend whose intellect you would all enjoy!_"

Vergilius looked over Pyotr's shoulder to see a gathering of men squeezed into a cramped bar. The centre of the room was where Vergilius could assume where the men of importance were. The two men sitting by a large circular table had the aura of control to confirm that assumption. Near the centre sat men in wooden chairs, beside and behind the two, their knees touching from the lack of space. At the corners were people sitting on stools and even standing up on the far-flung tables to get a view of the centre.

"_Were you not outside giving a speech?_" someone asked.

"_I was_," Pyotr nodded. "_Just as a couple of fools tried to disturb me, this fine man here sent them away with a spell. Confundus?_"

Vergilius nodded as the crowd of what he could only assume to be firebrands turned their attention towards him. He gave a sharp nod and surveyed the people in front of him.

Many he did not recognise, some he had seen in the Daily Prophet and various articles that he had read up on.

"_Your name?_" one of the two on the centre take asked, a thin, balding man with a monocle.

"_Augustus_."

The man snorted, scrutinizing him before switching to English. "British?"

"Why do you think so?" Vergilius danced to his tune, switching to his native tongue.

"I've worked with enough of you people to know a British when I see one," the man drawled. "Those who come from the land which boasts the birth of Merlin all walk and talk with a certain air of arrogance."

There was a tense silence in the room as everyone watched the verbal exchange, many not understanding a single sentence. Finally, the monocled man gave a firm nod and Pyotr slapped Vergilius on the back, gesturing to one of the seats in the centre table.

"_Come on Augustus, take a seat_."

Vergilius moved to the proffered seat, shaking hands with those around him. Apparently he was now a guest of honour.

"_So..._" the monocled man began. "_What does a British man think of our aspirations? I'm sure Pyotr here was quite vocal in our views._"

"_A British?_" someone far in the back exclaimed.

Pyotr gave a smirk and leaned back on his seat, crossing his arms. The attention on him increased tenfold. Vergilius could spy someone from the side reaching for his wand. Just what did his new acquaintance drag him into?

Vergilius simply raised an eyebrow, poise was all part of his family, regardless of the fact that he hated them for being a part of the aristocratic problem Wizarding Britain - and much of the European Wizarding World - was facing.

"_I will simply tell all of you what I have told Pyotr_," said Vergilius, resting his elbows on the table and bringing his fingers together. "_Your aspirations are sound and befits the current climate of the Wizarding World_."

There were nods all around him and just as many grunts of skepticism.

"_Pyotr here mentioned that magic had to be constantly improved_," Vergilius gestured towards said man who gave a firm nod. "_And that the aristocracy does nothing to aid it. As a person who works in that very field, words cannot describe how much I agree with that sentiment_."

Ears perked up all around the room. Vergilius grin internally, if there was ever a bone to toss to these people, that was it.

"_You work with magic research?_" the monocled man asked, a hint of genuine interest seeping into his voice.

Vergilius gave a nod and he could feel a certain amount of respect growing from the crowd. From the side, Pyotr gave a roaring laugh.

"_What did I say? I said he was an intellectual, like us. Did I not?_"

"_Yes, you did Pyotr_," the monocled man sighed, facing Vergilius once more he spoke. "_And as an... academic, how can you see this venom that the aristocracy brings?_"

"_All resources they have are only funneled towards their benefit, no one else's, not to others and not to society,_" Vergilius said bluntly.

"_And then the progress of society grinds to a halt,_" the monocled man nodded. "_You British might not feel it, but here in Russia the consequences are greater than ever_."

Grim nods of confirmation were met all around the room.

"_And what do you plan to do?_" Vergilius asked.

"_Change the system_."

"_How?_"

A pause. Vergilius knew he was pushing the line with that question, but he had a gut feeling and he wanted to see what this group of firebrands were made of.

"_I would turn that question around, Augustus. How would you change a system so corrupted until it becomes new and unrecognisable?_"

Vergilius took his time to come up with an answer, an answer he already knew and in the end only one word left his lips.

"_Forcefully._"

His answer was met with stunned silence. For a long while, nobody spoke. Vergilius could see the monocled man gazing deep into his eyes and he allowed the man to see a glimmer of himself. Eventually, the monocled man signalled the barkeep who placed two glasses on the table. He pushed one of them towards Vergilius.

The monocled man raised his glass.

"Well spoken."

With that, he drained his glass in one shot. Vergilius took his and mirrored the action.

Out of nowhere, the room came to a round of applause and everyone began calling for drinks. From the side, Pyotr was yelling.

"_What did I say? I was right! Men from other countries see our cause! And we have a master of magic here sympathising with us_."

Vergilius gave a grin and he received several handshakes, though he could see some distrustful gazes lingering on him. Not that it mattered, he was interested in what this group had to offer.

**XXXXX**

Harry stayed close to Mr Weasley as they left the courtroom of the Wizengamot. As he exited the place he heaved a sigh of relief, cleared of all charges. He was keen on returning back to Hogwarts and being expelled simply would not do.

At the distance, he watched as a hint of flamboyant purple disappeared around the corner. He supposed that was the last he would see of Dumbledore. The Headmaster had kept himself away from Harry so far this entire summer, he had heard that he attended the Order meetings but not once did Harry catch a glimpse of him.

Even during the hearing, Dumbledore did not even spare a glance at him. Leaving immediately as soon as the hearing was over. Was this what Sirius meant by having words with Dumbledore?

As he walked past the many floors of the Ministry he could see a hive of activity. At the end of the corridor, Harry could see Malfoy and Mcnair talking to each other. Cold anger bubbled in his gut at the injustice of it. Murderers walking free in broad daylight, surely there was something that the Order could do to implicate them.

"Mr Weasley," Harry said softly.

"Yes, Harry?" Mr Weasley said distractedly, having been greeting a fellow colleague.

"Malfoy and Mcnair, they're right there."

"Talking to the Russians too," Mr Weasley narrowed his eyes. "That's not a good sign."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, already having a reason of his own. Anything to do with Russian could have something to do with Anne.

"Last thing we need is a third party acting as a wild card," Mr Weasley explained. "The Russians are very dangerous."

"Really? How so?"

"I forgot. I doubt old Professor Binns ever taught this in his lessons but did you know that the Russians once beat the ICW in a war?"

"What?" Harry's jaw dropped. "They won against the entire Wizarding World?"

"No, just an expeditionary force comprising most of Wizarding Europe. The ICW could have thrown its full weight, but the losses would have been too much. They signed a white peace in the end."

"Wow..." Harry gaped at that fact. "Is that why the St Helensworth Agreement took everyone by surprise."

"You've been reading the news," Mr Weasley smiled approvingly. "That right, Wizarding Russia was and still is on bad terms with the ICW since the war. That's why no one saw this surprise move coming."

"It was Lucius Malfoy who spoke in support of them," said Harry, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. "He wouldn't just speak for them without any reason."

"That's what worries me," Mr Weasley said grimly. "Come on Harry, the faster we get back, the faster I can bring this news to the others."

**XXXXX**

"_So what are your chances?_" Vergilius inquired.

"_Quite good_," Pyotr said proudly. "_We have enough support to make a change_."

"_How much?_" Vergilius raised an eyebrow.

He had spoken with this group of firebrands for the entire day and with each passing hour he could see promise in this group. They were not an everyday mob of jealous fools dissatisfied with the boons the upperclass had - well, a good number of them were.

Instead, this was a group headed by intellectuals who understand the importance of progress and the burden that the aristocracy were. And some of their words and ideas were daring, radical and most importantly, inspiring. Some of them view the world the same as he did.

"_Look over there_," Pyotr pointed a finger to a corner of the room. "_See that man over there? That's Colonel Sarnovsky, head of the Fifth Auror Battalion. And I can assure you, his men are loyal_."

"_Isn't he a noble?_"

"_If he sees the unjustness of his people and chooses to fight against them, I will respect that._"

Vergilius had to smile at that statement.

"_And that man over there_," Pyotr continued. "_Ivan Reka, he is the head for the Russian Squib Union, accounts for eighty percent of the Squibs in Russia_."

"_Bah! What can Squibs do?_" someone muttered quietly from the side, only Vergilius heard that comment.

Vergilius snorted softly, with his knowledge and the experience gained from all his travels so far, from Mediterranean to Baltic, he could think of several purposes for Squibs.

"_It's not like there are that many Squibs, are there?_" Vergilius asked.

"_With our education system_," Pyotr shook his head sadly. "_There are wizards and witches who are practically considered Squibs._"

"_Anymore?_"

"_We have more_," Pyotr nodded, giving Vergilius a wry grin. "_But that would be telling too much_."

Vergilius nodded in understanding.

"_Of course,_" said Pyotr. "_We are hoping for the aid of foreigners sympathetic to our cause._"

"_Me?_" Vergilius chuckled.

"_Why not?_" Pyotr shrugged, but smiling nonetheless. "_You see things the way we do, and you are a good fit. You want to know what I see, Augustus?_"

"_What?_"

"_I see a world needing to change, and if there was ever an opportunity in this era, just one opportunity. This would be it._"

The monocled man cleared his throat loudly, calling for the attention of the room. All noise ceased and everyone gave him their fullest attention.

"_Sorry gentlemen_," the monocled man bowed gently. "_But I'm afraid that our time here is coming to an end. We all have our own matters to attend to. But first, any words from our newcomer? Augustus?_"

"_Yes, your goals, though inspiring as they are, are not comprehensive enough. What all of you seek to do will not just affect Russia, it will affect the world._"

Silence. Everyone sat in silence as they listened to Vergilius with rapt attention. He knew he was taking a gamble, but with the life he had been living, he would welcome the gamble.

"_And this window of opportunity you are all creating provides so much more possibilities than righting the wrongs of our society. We can do so much more with this opportunity. All of you speak of progressing our society, progressing magic to compete with other countries. That is true, but with how the Wizarding World stands, we wouldn't be just competing against other countries. When was the last time the Wizarding World saw a Dark Lord? When was the last time wizards clashed with Muggles? They had centuries to develop while we sat down idly. What we have to prepare, is against the whole world. Cause when we make a change, the whole world will seek to turn it back_."

Vergilius knew that the Wizarding World had to adapt and change. The Wizarding World had to be able to withstand the Muggles if they were ever exposed. Vergilius was not against the Muggles by any means, he respected them. But he was still worried that the Muggles were progressing faster than the Wizarding World. The wizarding aristocracy throughout Europe had stifled progress of society by focusing on their indulgence and court politics.

Vergilius knew that if push came to shove, the current climate would not hold, be it from Muggle or the next Dark Lord the Wizarding World would be shaken to the core. A bastion of wizarding progress had to be established. For that to happen, there had to be change.

And change was about to happen in front of his very eyes. Russia would be largely ignored, by the Muggles because of their war and by the Wizarding World because despite its vast size, Wizarding Russia was never really at the centre of attention. And if there was one thing Vergilius could rely on, was that the current wizarding aristocracy was slow to react.

The room took his words with shock, everyone took their time to stew. Several minutes passed before people began breaking into hushed tones, even Pyotr - with all his booming laughter - looked ruffled by his words.

The monocled man clasped his hands together. "_You speak of much greater things, conflict with Muggles and the rise of another Dark Lord? Are you quite sure?_"

Vergilius nodded.

"_You have proved yourself an intelligent man. You have my ears. What are you proposing?_"

If he could shape this change, immerse himself in it, he could change the course of wizarding history.


	31. Chapter 31 - Rowlan

Chapter 31 - Rowlan

Anya sat at the park bench, absentmindedly breaking the slice of bread in her hands. The ducks in front of her quacked impatiently and she obliged, throwing the bread bit by bit to the ducks. Quacks soon turned into soft splashing and Anya stared blankly at the ducks, she never enjoyed feeding animals - one of the reasons she never took Care for Magical Creatures - but she found the bitter nostalgia soothing.

The soft crunching of shoes on leaves reached Anya's ears and soon enough, someone took the empty seat next to her. Anya cast a glanced and nodded in greeting, the girl was getting better at blending in with Muggles.

"I remember begging my mom for pet ducks when I was younger," Astoria declared as she looked at the feasting ducks fondly. "You're spoiling them."

"They're already spoiled," Anya shrugged, knowing she was not the first and definitely not the last to give the ducks a free meal.

"This is a new place to meet," Astoria looked at the park around her. "It's relaxing. I didn't think Muggles would enjoy this place just as much as wizards and witches, I had thought them to be all engrossed in their machines."

"So what do you have for me?" Astoria asked, looking expectantly at Anya.

Anya simply reached into her jacket and took out a newspaper cutting, passing it to Astoria. The younger girl took it with question and began reading.

_Daily Prophet_

_Largest bust on Black Mark thus far_

The picture showed two British Aurors standing in front of a river barge, looking proudly at the camera.

"Isaac Stanning and Andrew Rowlan," Astoria read aloud. "I've seen this before, why? Did the shipment hold something valuable for your side?"

Anya shook her head. "No, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?" Astoria asked. "The Aurors?"

Anya nodded.

"What's so problematic about that? If the Aurors intercepted the other side and the Black Mark is just a facade, then there's no issue?"

"The Aurors were tipped off," Anya stated bluntly, she could already see the gears turning Astoria's head.

"Someone used the Aurors to do their dirty work," Astoria concluded. "But Aurors are unlikely to respond to random tip offs, not without several backup teams. These two here went in without backup."

Astoria scanned the words on the article again, scrunching her eyebrows.

"That means they were personally connected to the people who gave the tip off," Astoria said confidently. "Hmm... are they well connected? Or is someone possibly trying to earn favours from the Aurors?"

"Bets are on the second one," Anya cracked a grin. "You figured it out fast."

"If I was the one behind this, I would - what's the Muggle term - try to hit as many birds I can with a stone," Astoria smiled, proud at her deduction. "This seemed like the logical thing to do, give them some glory, a promotion or two and then make them indebted to you. And to top it off, you've stymied an opponent's move and gave the public the impression that the criminal show the Russians put up was something real."

Anya shook her head in disbelief, still grinning, the girl was very sharp. She scattered the rest of the bread and stood up, Astoria followed suit and they were soon walking down the park.

"And how does this relate to me?" Astoria asked.

"You mentioned that your father is going to the Ministry tomorrow, the DMLE if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes," Astoria nodded, her eyes sparkling. "What do you need?"

"I don't expect much," said Anya. "But ask to tag along with him and keep your ears and eyes open. If you're lucky, maybe you'll pick something up."

"I can do that," Astoria nodded.

**XXXXX**

_I can do that._

Simple words, easy to say. Astoria grimaced, the truth was that it was indeed easy to follow the request, getting anything substantial from it was another matter. Astoria scowled, she was not planning on doing anything less than excellent. This was the first task Anya had given her ever since she inadvertently opened a can of worms, she was definitely not planning on giving anything less than perfection. Anya might just cut her off from this game the Russians were playing.

Astoria shuddered at the thought, she had memories of her great-grandfather, they were few but fond. He was an Auror who had been part of the ICW expeditionary force that fought against Russia, Astoria had heard many stories of how excellent a duelist he was and how powerful a wizard he had been. All Astoria saw was an old man bound to a wheelchair - her grandfather had recommended goblin-made prosthetics but the older man was too stubborn - and struggling when casting the simplest of spells. He had lost all his limbs in a battle, relying solely on whatever wandless magic he could muster, if any consolation it was still an impressive feat.

Old Isander Greengrass never said what the battle was like. He was a sole survivor and would fall into a surly silence every time someone had the audacity to ask what happened.

Astoria shook her head, if that was what happened when her great-grandfather went to Russia, she could only imagine what would happen if Russia came to them instead. She was not going to leave her family in harm's way. Telling her father was an idea, but he would simply keep out of harm's way and forbade her from doing anything. Sometimes, the Greengrass neutrality was not an option.

She turned her focus back to the chattering all around the hallway, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was always busy, even more now that the Black Mark was a present threat. Tightening her grip on her father's hand, she followed her father into the main office.

"What's wrong Tori?" Cyrus Greengrass asked in concern. "Not that I'm complaining but you were quite eager to come along."

"Just the unfamiliar sights," Astoria muttered.

"You were never this shy," Cyrus said shrewdly.

"Come on dad, everyone here is an Auror," Astoria explained, knowing very well he would buy that explanation.

Cyrus gave a short chuckle. "I do remember being exceedingly scared of Aurors myself when I was young."

_Yes, you told us that two years ago during mom's birthday._

"I supposed you got it from me then," Cyrus shrugged. "But relax Tori, you only have to be scared of them if you did something wrong."

"Alright."

_Great, now I feel like Daphne, pulling strings around._

They came to a stop in front of an office, Astoria looked at the plaque on the door and her heart skipped a beat.

_Cpt Andrew F. Rowlan, Second Auror Battalion, Bicorn Wing 2IC_

One of the two people of interest Anya had pegged. Astoria tried to still her pounding heart, knowing the following hours to come would be very important.

"Captain Andrew Rowlan," Astoria read the plaque aloud. "The one from the Daily Prophet?"

"The very same," Cyrus noted.

Astoria faced her father and frowned.

"It's nothing special," Cyrus answered her unspoken question. "You do know our family supplies healing potions to some sectors of the DMLE. Among the Aurors, sometimes it's up to each wing commander or second-in-charge to decide on the equipment of their men."

A business deal, Astoria could already feel the inevitable headache.

"But aren't these things centralised by... I don't know, the Head Auror or the Head of the DMLE?" Astoria asked.

"Important equipment are," Cyrus nodded. "But Madam Bones allows the Auror Corps a degree of autonomy when it comes to secondary equipment, an autonomy Rufus Scrimgeour passed to each Auror Wing."

Astoria nodded, taking a deep breath as Cyrus knocked on the door smartly before opening it. They stepped into a small room where a wizard was hunched over his table, scribbling lines on a scroll of parchment. He glanced at the two Greengrasses before picking up a small note.

"Mr Greengrass," the wizard grunted, clearly an assistant of sorts. "Captain Rowlan will be here shortly, just wait out here."

Cyrus nodded, leaning against the wall patiently. Astoria spied the door that probably led to Rowlan's office, deciding to try her luck.

"My feet hurt," she muttered quietly, giving a bored look at the door. She had just pushed back the day her father would treat her as an adult by years. But if she got any good information from this, it was all worth it.

"Excuse me mister," Cyrus asked the assistant. "Is it possible for us to wait inside his office? My daughter is tired, forgive her."

The assistant looked at Astoria and she met his gaze with a slight pout before turning away with a small sigh.

"I would conjure a chair for you, miss, but there isn't any room here," the assistant explained. "But... fine, Captain Rowlan is new here and I don't really know his style... but I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Just wait inside, I'll call for him."

The man bought the act, hook, line and sinker. Astoria smiled on the inside, following her father into the actual office. She was greeted with a spacious room, with many boards hanging from the walls and a desk full of parchment cluttered in some particular order.

Cyrus, ever the loving father, pulled out a chair for her which she gave him a grateful smile for. Making sure her father was absorbed in his own patient waiting, Astoria keenly observed the room, trying her best to pick out every minute detail. Once Rowlan came in, she would not have the luxury to inspect every inch of the office

First of all, she came to the conclusion that Andrew Rowlan was not an organised man. His desk was a mess and there was a spare wand lying about, probably a backup wand but it still spoke volumes.

Second of all, there were too many items on his desk and on the boards. The _Daily Prophet_ said he had just been promoted and the assistant said that he was newly posted here, there was no reason for the boards to be chock full of parchment and paper. Astoria squinted slightly, the pictures were stationary. Muggle newspapers, that was unusual. Rowlan was a Half-blood but was there really any reason to have Muggle newspaper clippings?

From where she was, she could not discern the contents of the newspapers but she knew better than to move over to try. She looked at another board, and saw a map of Britain. Many pins were stuck on various locations throughout Britain, strings connecting certain pins and hastily scribbled notes were attached everywhere.

The map was beside the board of Muggle newspapers, they were surely connected, but for whatever reason Astoria could not figure out. However, she got the general idea, Rowlan was interested in Muggles for certain motives.

What motives? If only she had read up more on Muggle Studies. It didn't matter, what she had was the memory of this. Pensives were extraordinarily rare but if Anya could find one, then there would not be much problems.

The door swung open and she masked her surprise, adopting a mask of petulant boredom. A wizard in khaki robes stepped in, surveying the room with a frown etched onto his face. He looked at Astoria who kept her mask up perfectly, then he looked at Cyrus.

"Mr Greengrass," he gave a curt nod, his frown deepening.

"Mr Rowlan," Cyrus nodded, noticing the other man's frown. "Is there a problem?"

"My office is supposed to be private."

"Something you should raise to your assistant then," Cyrus countered easily.

"I will be," Rowlan grunted, moving to his desk and indicating the empty seat in front. "Come, take a seat here. Your daughter?"

"I thought it was time for her to start understanding how the real world works."

"Very well," Rowlan acquiesced.

"Sir, your wand," Astoria pointed to the stray wand lying in the corner.

"Don't mind it, miss," Rowlan grunted. "It's already broken, just a spare, I've been meaning to get a replacement."

They began their talks and Astoria tuned their voices out, focusing on her surroundings. Glancing at Rowlan's desk for a minute, she struck out her first conclusion. He was organised, just in that spontaneous, messy sort of way. His documents though cluttered had some form of arrangement to it.

Her eyes roved over the various documents, filtering out unimportant details. Then, she spotted paper, not parchment or those wizarding paper that had a different look, this was Muggle. Rowlan was interested in Muggles, this was the correct direction to go.

Most of the paper was covered, but it looked like a letter. Astoria could make out the name of the sender.

Richard Long.

**XXXXX**

"To start all of this, we begin at Richard Long," Aleks handed the three of them a folder.

Dimitri took the initiative, flipping it open.

"That's the name that Crow pulled out, right?" Jen asked, giving Anya a look.

"Minor tip off," Aleks nodded. "But it was a good starting point."

Anya read the document, Richard Long was a Muggle but more importantly, he handled information in the British Home Office. If anyone got to him, they would have a goldmine of information on the Muggle British.

"I'll put it simply, he was under an Imperius Curse," said Aleks. "We had operatives do a sweep, there were another ten Muggles who were under the Imperius Curse throughout the British Muggle government, all having met with Richard Long."

Dimitri let out a low whistle. Contacts and information, whoever it was planned on spreading his roots deep. Anya grimaced, the Wizarding government of a country was supposed to safeguard its Muggle counterpart from external magical threats. After all, you only needed one opportunistic wizard to get greedy and a little carefree with Imperius Curses or Confundus Charms, be it to withdraw millions from banks or blackmail a politician for favours.

"Aren't the British Aurors supposed to catch these things?" Jen asked.

"That would fall under the purview of the British Second Auror Battalion, Bicorn Wing," Aleks replied.

"Andrew Rowlan?" Anya asked, sounding more like a statement if anything.

"That's what Grey and Nathaniel think," Aleks said. "On top of that, we don't know how many more are under the Imperius Curse. Rowlan is essentially acting as a virus, forcing us to conduct a wide sweep for any more Muggle officials he placed under the Imperius Curse."

"And..." Dimitri cued.

"Grey wants him dead."

"No capture and interrogation?" Jen asked, frowning in confusion.

"Grey says he already knows what's going on," Aleks explained. "He wants to cut the problem at the root and send a message to whoever it is behind this."

"So, another assassination order?" Anya asked.

Aleks nodded, passing another folder to her. She accepted it without question and opened it, proceeding to read its contents.

"Wish we were given the sweeping task," Dimitri grumbled.

"Don't complain, _cyka_," Aleks snapped. "Nathaniel doesn't want to waste your time in with a sweeping task, Anya has school."

Dimitri hid his laughter with a snort. "Anya has school. That sounds stupid."

"So is there any information on how to track him down aside from infiltrating the Ministry?" Jen asked.

"He has several heavily warded addresses to his name as well," Anya muttered. "Between the three of us, we don't really have the resource to track all of them, we need good information."

"You would know Crow," Aleks raised an eyebrow in challenge. "You are the one with the contacts in this case."

Anya counted the days in her head before saying. "Four days, that's the time we have."

"Do your best," said Aleks, standing up to leave the room. "Grey also says he expects full OWLs from you."

"Crooked old man," Anya muttered.

"Do you have any contacts for this?" Jen asked her, viewing the folder.

"Give me a day and I'll let you know."

**XXXXX**

"Time check."

"One more minute."

Deft hands reached to fasten any loose straps. Anya tugged her knapsack, feeling its reassuring weight and gave Dimitri and Jen a nod. Patiently, they waited the seconds away.

"Three. Two. One. Mark."

The coins they were holding on glowed blue before they disappeared. They landed on top of the National Westminster Tower, just north of Diagon Alley, equipment already in hand. With the possible level of security in place, both distance and high ground was needed to assess the situation undetected. The magical district of London from the outside eye was concealed with various spells, but getting a grasp of the Muggle surrounding was still quintessential.

Jen was immediately casting wards and concealment spells around them. Dimitri laid prone, humming a soft lullaby as he peered through his omnioculars. Anya had a pair of omnioculars in her hands as well, surveying the entrances to Diagon Alley and the possible vantage points.

Three surveillance teams in vantage points around Diagon Alley, three teams of three men. Russian MLE and Spooks usually operated in threes, British did pairs. Wards weaved around the area like a tight mesh, some were native while others additional protection cast by Russian operatives.

Anya fiddled the pencil in her hand as she jotted and circled out various lines and points of interest on her map. A thorough inspection of her markings before she passed it to Dimitri who had compiled some observations of his own.

"Front door?" Dimitri quipped, comparing the maps.

Jen and Anya nodded in response.

Sometimes the easiest path was the most open one. A few glamour charms and the three of them entered the Leaky Cauldron, slipping through with the crowd. The drab jackets they wore concealed their vests underneath and their heavier equipment were stowed in their bags. They took their time, waiting for the short queue of the rush hour to pass through the brick wall.

Her eyes scanned the wards that the hostile Spooks have laid out around Diagon Alley and softly whispered the gathered information to her partners. Jen took the lead in identifying the ward before giving Dimitri instructions. They drew their wand surreptitiously and began drawing small circles with their wand, muttering incantations under their breath.

Out of habit, Anya closed her left eye, allowing magic to fill her vision. The thick cords of magic that had formed a mesh around the entrance to Diagon Alley began to loosen and unravel gradually, a knot undone each time Jen swished his wand. Dimitri shifted into position and jabbed his wand firmly at the wards and the unknotted cords were pulled away with a sudden jerk. Anya could see the strain on the cords, but the line of magic held firm.

"Are we good?" Jen asked.

"Yes," Anya nodded. "No tears on the wards, we're in clean."

They slipped into the crowds in Diagon Alley, blending in among the youths on their shopping trip before the start of school - except that in the case of Anya, it was genuinely her shopping trip.

"You can ignore the newts' eyes," Jen muttered, placing a jar of pickled fluxweed in her basket. "Not fresh and something that your school stores should provide. Also, you better hurry or Dim is going to do something stupid."

"In that case, you should have been the one securing our post," Anya replied lazily, placing the basket on the counter and counting out the sickles in her pouch.

"He's the Charms Specialist here," Jen deflected. "I'm not about to give him an opportunity to skive off."

"And he's better at making places cosier," said Anya as she packed her purchase into her knapsack.

"Yes, that."

With the last of her Fifth Year items bought, they headed through various winding alleyways. Stopping at one of the alleyways, they vaulted over a short walk before proceeding to climb the four-storey buildings that were packed around them. Ledges and pipes became their footholds and grips as they ascended to the third floor.

A few twists of Jen's wand granted them access to the wards Dimitri had been raising. A wave of Anya's wand opened a nearby window. Leaping from the ledge she was on, she caught hold of the windowsill and leveraged herself up with the grip she had.

She raised her wand as she perched herself on the window, checking the place. It was an abandoned room, filled with dusty furniture. However, the sleeping bags and assorted snacks that were laid on the floor were fresh, as were the myriad of runes that adorned the peeling walls. On the reclining chair in front of her sat Dimitri, spreading his arms wide open in a dramatic gesture.

"Welcome to my humble abode."

"Ass," Anya mumbled before raising her wand hand in a thumbs up gesture and entering the room. Jen entered behind her before giving a cursory glance at the runes on the walls.

"How are the runes?" Dimitri asked.

"Good," Jen nodded, drawing his own wand. "You can take a break, I'll reinforce the wards."

Anya dropped her knapsack, sorting aside her newly bought school items to pull out her Dragunov. Peeking through a curtained window, she gauged the angle before aiming her wand low.

"_Defodio_."

The spell bit into the brick wall, gouging out a small hole. Anya lay down prone and looked through the hole she had made, it lined up with the entrance of Hyslop's Quality Wands. Satisfied, Anya cast a standard set of concealment spells on the loophole before setting her rifle down. It was now a waiting game.

_Hyslop's Quality Wands?_

_Trust me. That's the one._

_Isn't Ollivander's the go-to here in Britain?_

Anya glanced at her watch, it was still early. Settling herself down, she kept an eye on the entrance of the shop. Dimitri and Jen will rest, she always took the first watch.

_Like I said Anya, Ollivander's sells wands that are custom and personal. And those are expensive and take time to find a perfect match. Backup wands used by Ministry personnel don't have that luxury. They are good, yes, but not personal._

Day turned into night and Anya laid in her sleeping bag, eating the meals that Dimitri had acquired. Jen had taken over the watch, peering through the same loophole with a pair of omnioculars. Dimitri had lit a cigarette out of boredom, smoking away the time. Anya frowned at the cigarette, it was a potential opening in their cover with its distinctive scent. At least Dimitri did not begin casting spells out of boredom, constantly flaring magical signatures was a bigger threat.

_And Hyslop's Quality Wands?_

_They are one of the two wand makers that produce standard backup wands for the DMLE._

_Why wouldn't he go to the other one? Or a third party wand maker for that matter. Why wouldn't he let them deliver the wand to him? What makes you think he hasn't gotten his replacement yet?_

The second day went by like the first day, uneventful. The three of them were unconcerned, they had waited longer than this before. Patience was key, Anya knew this the most, her speciality demanded it.

_Why wouldn't he go to any other ones? Because Hyslop's makes wands that are famous for their compatibility with long incantation spells._

_Rowlan favours long incantation spells?_

_Of the various academic books in his office, half of them are related to it. Hyslop's don't do wand delivery and I know he hasn't gotten a replacement yet because he doesn't have the time to._

_Why's that?_

_He works overtime and ends up sleeping in office, he wouldn't even be stepping out from the Ministry in the two days since I visited._

_Elaborate._

_There was a huge stack of paperwork waiting for him, added with the fact that he's newly posted into his position as a 2IC and thus has many things to familiarise. There was a kettle and jar of coffee within his arms reach and there was a pillow stowed in one of his open cabinets. I've heard from my father that it's not uncommon for Auror to sleep in._

The third day had gone by. They had watched the tide of wizards and witches in the streets rise and fall. They had made a record of who had entered and exited the wand shop that catered to the DMLE. They had read through all the books Nathaniel had assigned to them as reading material. Still, Rowlan had not shown himself.

Anya could feel the impatience seeping into Dimitri. It was expected, the brown haired teen was more used to actively doing something, even in their reconnaissance tasks there was something to observe despite simply lying down. Jen was still fine, he only had to glance at Anya's unperturbed visage to carry on his task without complaint. He trusted her every move and if the team's designated marksman was not budging, neither would he.

Fourth day showed itself and it was the end of their window. At least for Anya it was, the fourth day was the first of September. She had a train to catch. Her Hogwarts trunk was already stowed in a car Aleks had graciously parked near King's Cross. Jen and Dimitri could get the job done, but the lack of a sniper that could tag their target from halfway across Diagon Alley was a huge detriment.

Most of Anya's items were kept back in her knapsack, only the Dragunov stayed. Her eyes flickered towards her wristwatch, the Hogwarts Express was departing in two hours. Finally, a person in khaki robes showed up in Anya's crosshairs, she let out a small and slow sigh. It always had to be the eleventh hour. Shifting her aim slightly, she let her training and instincts take over.

"Jen, Dimitri. Eyes on khaki."

* * *

CLASSIFIED 01M/01R/01F

This document can only be read by personnel with Level 01M, 01R or 01F clearance or above. Personnel without proper authorisation caught possessing or viewing this document or a copy of this document will face an Azkaban sentence of at least 30 years in addition to a Memory Charm being performed.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC

DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES

FIELD OPERATIONS MANUAL W4-1

**OPERATION DETAILS REGARDING THE BRITISH NATIONAL WARD GRID**

DATE: 01 JANUARY 1975

CONTENTS

Overview

Chapter 1: Structure of National Ward Grid

Chapter 2: Components and Management of National Ward Grid

Chapter 3: Defense Operations of National Ward Grid

Chapter 4: Energy Operations of National Ward Grid

Chapter 5: Sensory Operations of National Ward Grid

Chapter 6: Transportation Operations of National Ward Grid

Chapter 7: Malfunctions, Corrective Actions and Safety

Annex A

Annex B

OVERVIEW

1\. The National Ward Grid is the most essential key infrastructure of a Wizarding state. Contrary to popular belief, the National Ward Grid is not simply defensive in its purpose. Its features compasses a majority of all magical functions required for the day to day operation of a Wizarding state. These can be categorised under the following:

Defense

Energy

Sensory

Transportation

2\. With this in mind, an Unspeakable should be knowledgeable in the details of the National Ward Grid in order to fulfill their duties.

3\. Although the secrecy of the **presence** of the National Ward Grid is considered Public Class █ due to Clause 5 of the ICW Nurmengard Convention, it should still be handled as Public Class █ as part of ███████████.

4\. Naturally, all details recorded in this manual are considered Public Class █. Standard operating procedures for interactions with other departments regarding the National Ward Grid can be found in Field Operations Manual W5-1.

* * *

CHAPTER 1

STRUCTURE OF NATIONAL WARD GRID

Section 1: Description

1\. The National Ward Grid is built from several matrixes of key rune stones placed in strategic locations throughout Britain. Natural ley lines of Britain are channelled by the rune stones in various layers of overlapping wards. The wards can be connected to ward control systems for various functions as mentioned in W4-1-O-1.

Section 2: Protection

1\. Every rune stone installation receives a Level █ Concealment and Defense (CAD) from the Department of Mysteries with additional designated Auror Corps support from 2nd Auror Battalion Bicorn Wing.

2\. Majority of the ley lines do not require CAD as no major disruption can be performed with the absence of a rune stone, ward control system or ley source.

3\. Ley lines that require CAD are listed as the following:

River Conwy (RV-W-3-MS) Ley Line

Yorkshire-5 (YS-5) Ley Line

Grampian Mountains-2 (MT-S-2-2) Ley Line

Level █ CAD are deployed for the mentioned sites.

4\. Ley sources receive a Level █ CAD with the exception of the following sites due to their inaccessible nature or self sufficient protection:

Avalon

Azkaban

Hogwarts

* * *

3\. The National Ward Grid is separated into four different groups due to differences in the interactions and nature of ley line groups. The National Ward Grid is separated into the following:

English Ward Grid

Welsh Ward Grid

Scottish Ward Grid

Northern Irish Ward Grid

* * *

Section 18. **Bohm Magic Level 2A Redirection Rune Node**

General

1\. The Redirection Rune Node will change the direction of Bohm Magic emitted from Class-5 ley sources without affecting the nature of emitted magic

Identification:

2\. RN-R205-B (Field Operations)

3\. WSC-R-32-7354-004 (Research Operations)

Magical Properties

4\. Flow Stress Point: ████ ä

5\. Directional Stress Point: ████ ⁰

6\. Disruption Index: ████

7\. Diffusion Index: ██████

Runic Properties

8\. Node Structure: cylindrical, marble

9: Node Dimension: 2000 MM H x 180 MM DIA

10\. Rune Structure: Pyramidal

11\. Rune Language: Elder Futhark, Futhorc

12\. Rune Description: Interdependent twin core scripts with 4 secondary scripts and 3 situational component scripts (Refer to Annex B for full details)


	32. Chapter 32 - Back to Hogwarts

**AN: It's finally back to Hogwarts, about damn time. Looking back, I feel that the summer chapters might have been a bit too slow on the pacing, but there were plot points I had to put in before Year Five. Do let me know how it was on the pacing/plot layout.**

**I think more importantly, I've been a bit too slow on my uploads, oof.**

* * *

Chapter 32 - Back to Hogwarts

"Children, hurry up. Any more delays and we'll miss the train. Yes Ginny? Oh, that's right! Your- Merlin's sake Fred, what did I say-"

The sound of Ron casually slamming his trunk shut finally provided a distraction from Mrs Weasley's familiar pre-Hogwarts Express monologue. A sound that had been filling Harry's ears from downstairs for the past two hours.

"Finally packed?" he asked Ron, sitting on top of his own packed trunk.

"Yes," Ron sighed. "Finally found my Prefect badge. Fred and George placed it in Kreacher's 'den'."

"The horror," Harry snorted.

"I would feel sorry for Percy having to deal with those twats in the past if it wasn't for the fact that he's a prat of the highest degree."

"And whose socks are these!?" Mrs Weasley's cry rose from downstairs once more.

Ron took a breath and began heaving his trunk out of their room.

"Come on, the sooner we get down, the sooner mom has one less reason to go shouting."

Harry fell in place behind him, carefully making their way down the stairs. It was the first of September and it was back to Hogwarts. The mood in the house was very much mixed. Sirius slowly grew into one of his surly moods, something that was caused by the impending departure of company, not that Harry could fault him. Ron for once seemed excited to go to Hogwarts, being appointed as Prefect had certainty helped in the change of tone. Hermione was... Hermione, very excited.

And Mrs Weasley was... Mrs Weasley.

"FRED! GEORGE! I'll give the both of you five more minutes to get down here!"

Harry could not help feeling excited himself. Ever since moving to Grimmauld Place, he suddenly found himself lacking in one company that he had quickly grown to miss. Anne. Grabbing his wand holster as he thought of his sister, Harry gave himself a bitter grimace. She was just here for one more year and she would leave.

Harry bit the insides of his cheek in weary frustration, he had one known her for one year and actually only got to spend days dispersed over months with her. And she was already going to leave?

If anything, it spurred him further to convince her to stay and spend as much time with her as possible.

"Mrs Weasley, we do have to go soon, right?"

"Of course, Harry dear," said Mrs Weasley. "If only those twins would hurry up. FRED! GEORGE! Oh Sirius! For heaven's sake!"

Harry turned and grinned as he saw Snuffles patiently waiting at the door. When the Weasleys twins had finally shown themselves, Mrs Weasley unceremoniously dragged them by their ears out of the house and onto the street where the two Muggle taxis she had bravely called for were waiting.

Reaching King's Cross Station, Harry barked out in laughter as Sirius - in the form of Snuffles - began running about, chasing birds and fetching random junk. Making their way to Platform Nine Three Quarters, Harry watched as Mrs Weasley began fussing over her children. Moody and Tonks, who have graciously accompanied them, immediately split from the group in opposite directions, taking up positions behind pillars and blending in amongst the crowd. Harry admired them, being an Auror had become a dream of his.

From the side, Snuffles nudged his side, drawing his attention. Harry turned and watched as the great black dog looked at a direction, whining in a sad noise.

Harry humoured his godfather and looked, just in time to see a similar looking set of emerald eyes staring back at him. His sister gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement before boarding the Hogwarts Express. As if that was a cue, Snuffles pushed Harry towards one of the doors of the Hogwarts Express, giving him a bark.

"Alright Snuffles, I'm not going to lose her anytime soon. You take care of yourself now."

Catching Ron and Hermione's eyes, he gave a jerk of his head but his two friends gave him a sheepish look.

"Sorry Harry," said Hermione apologetically. "But Prefects need to be at the front for a briefing with the Head Boy and Girl."

"Oh," said Harry. "Then I'd best go then."

"Find us some good seats, mate," Ron hollered as Harry began boarding the train. "Hermione and I are just gonna be stuck listening to some prat drone on and on about some tosh- ow, Hermione!"

Snickering at his friends' exchange, Harry began hastily making his way down the compartments in the direction of Anne. It took some time, including walking in on at least three separate snogging sessions, but Harry finally found the compartment Anne was in.

Pulling the open door open without warning - which had been the cause of him walking into those snogging sessions, he really ought to stop doing that - he was finally greeted with the sight of his sister. She was leaning against the window, reading a book, one of those old Muggle classic novels.

"Harry," Anya greeted casually with a nod, pocketing an empty vial that still bore hints of orange liquid.

"Anne," Harry broke into a wide smile, pulling his sister into a hug. "You look... great. How are you?"

"Fine," she shrugged, but Harry could just pick out the slightest twitch of her lips. "How about you?"

"Good as well," Harry replied, sitting down beside her and finally inspecting his sister up close for the first time in a while. She looked fine, but her eyes were a little weary. Harry sighed internally, praying to Merlin that he would not have to worry about any potential bouts of insomnia.

"Where did you go?" Anya asked nonchalantly, reverting back to reading her book.

"I can't say it," Harry muttered.

"A good enough indicator that you were somewhere safe," Anya nodded.

"Well-"

Harry's words were cut off by several firm knocks on the compartment door. He looked at Anya who tilted her head in a manner of saying 'why not?'.

"Come in," Harry called out to the unknown.

The door slid open, revealing an Auror with two members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol behind him. The Auror's eyes surveyed the room cautiously before finally landing at the twins.

"Don't worry, lad, girl," he grunted, stepping into the compartment. "Just a routine check. Have any of you seen any suspicious activities or items?"

The twins looked at each other before turning to face the Auror, both shaking their heads mutely. The Auror raised his wand and muttered a spell, Harry felt a whooshing sensation ripple from head to toe.

"Clear on my end," said the Auror. "Yours?"

One of the MLEP personnel stepped forward, holding what Harry recognised as a dark detector in his hand. The man waved the probe about the room before nodding.

"Clear for me too."

The men began to leave but Harry called out to them. He never faced this level of security before in the past four years on the Hogwarts Express.

"Sirs, is there anything going on?"

The Auror turned back to face Harry, eyes roving over him. A look of surprise washed over the Auror as his eyes landed on the famous scar, a moment later and the Auror settled back into the grim demeanor he had been showing.

"Nothing of your concern, Mr Potter."

Watching the three men leave, Harry turned to Anya. "Weird, they looked like they were looking for something."

"Most likely," Anya nodded.

"What do you think they're looking for?"

"Whatever law enforcement people look for, criminals, witnesses and illegal goods."

Before Harry could speak, the compartment door slid open once more, revealing Ginny dragging a shy Neville behind her.

"Harry! There you are! We were looking for you, what made... you..."

Ginny's voice trailed off as she finally noticed Anya's presence. Harry saw her eyes widen in recognition as the red head took in his sister's appearance.

"Hello," Ginny nodded with a hint of nervousness. "We aren't intruding, are we?"

"Not at all, come in," Harry gestured to the open seats.

Neville looked like he would rather be anywhere else but Ginny simply dragged him into the compartment. The two of them settled down, Ginny casting curious glances at Anya while Neville looked at anywhere else but the lone Slytherin.

"You must be Anya Seryy," Ginny finally said, dispelling the awkward atmosphere as she held out her hand. "Ginny Weasley, fourth-year Gryffindor."

"A pleasure," Anya nodded, giving the red head a firm shake.

Ginny opened her mouth, but suddenly realised Neville's presence. She promptly turned to stare at Harry, flicking her eyes to Neville who was squirming in his seat. Harry remembered that Ginny was there in the Hospital Wing when Anya's identity was revealed and was now asking permission to speak about that topic.

Not that it was going to happen with Neville nearby. Harry simply shook his head and Ginny gave a nod of understanding. Suddenly, all eyes turned to the odd one out, Neville. The loud billowing of steam and the rattle of the train track signalled the start of the Hogwarts Express. It also made the silence more pronounced.

"I'm nobody, really," Neville muttered, sweating under at increased attention.

Feeling sorry for him, Harry spoke out. "That's Neville Longbottom, he's in our year, Gryffindor too."

Anya gave a nod, but Harry did not miss the miniscule look of exasperation at what was probably an unnecessary introduction, Snape had probably made Neville infamous among their year.

"Besides that," Ginny burst out. "Did you notice the Aurors on board the Hogwarts Express? One of them checked me and Neville as we passed by."

"Yeah, they entered our room a few moments ago," said Harry.

"Gran said that something happened at Diagon Alley," Neville spoke up. "An incident of some sort, riled up the Aurors it seems."

"Seryy, do you happen to know anything?" Ginny asked bravely.

"If it involves Aurors publicly roaming around, we'll know sooner or later when the news goes around," Anya said idly.

Another set of knocking on the compartment door cut through the conversation. Harry pulled the door open, expecting Ron and Hermione, but another sight greeted him.

"Well, this place appears to be crowded."

It was a girl with smooth dark brown hair with a face Harry might go as far as to say cherubic. She looked younger than them, and from her height Harry pegged her as a third-year. Harry searched his memories for a name to go with the face. Greengrass. The younger one. He had frequently seen her hanging around with Anne.

"Anything I could do for you?" Harry asked neutrally. Gryffindors disliked Slytherins on principle, but if she was close to Anne, he would make an exception.

"Just looking for Anya," the girl replied, eyes flickering to said person and then back to Harry. "But... I see that she's busy."

"You can go on, Astoria," said Anya, Harry turned and was surprised to see his sister smiling. "I'll find you later to catch up."

"It's alright," said Harry, if Anne stayed because Greengrass did, he would adapt. "You can join us."

"Me?" Astoria laughed, shaking her head. "No, I'd rather not Potter."

"Why's that?" Harry asked suspiciously, mentally preparing for a bigoted spiel against Blood Traitors.

"A compartment sits six, four of you are already seated," Astoria replied. "And I'm not about to deny Weasley and Granger seats."

The response caught Harry off guard. She did have a point, although everyone could theoretically just squeeze. Also, did the girl actually account for Ron and Hermione?

Then again, this girl was Slytherin and unlike trolls like Crabbe and Goyle, she actually seemed capable of being cunning.

"Anya, I'll be at the second last compartment from the back."

"Give me a few hours and we'll catch up," Anya nodded, giving the girl a small wave.

The door closed and silence ensued, nobody really knowing what topic to bring up. Well, Neville seemed content with the silence, as was Anne.

"So, what have you been doing since?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. He could feel Ginny and Neville's shooting him curious looks.

"Nothing much," Anya shrugged. "Loitering around London I guess, new country, new sights."

Harry felt his heart skipping a beat. She had been in London all this time as well? If he had known that, he would have ploughed his brain for methods to sneak out of Grimmauld Place and meet up.

"You visited Diagon Alley often?" Ginny asked, trying to bring up more topics to speak, the tension was killing her. "Did you try Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream?"

"No, Muggle London actually."

"Oh," Ginny deflated at the flat response.

"Harry, what to see what I got over the summer?" Neville asked, chipping in his part in trying to make conversation.

The cactus-like plant that Neville brought out only ended up as a slimy, stinky mess. To add insult to injury, it was the moment Cho Chang walked in before stammering a hasty excuse when she saw the mess. Harry cringed, not his greatest moment. A Scourgify from Ginny cleared said mess and Harry watched as all eyes went to Anya, checking her reaction.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Neville muttered, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to sink into his seat and disappear.

Anya stared at them before letting out an amused snort, turning back to her book.

"Any interesting places?" Harry asked.

"Let's see..." Anya tilted her head in thought. "Well, a friend of mine insisted I tried a pie and mash place in East End."

"Pie and mash?"

"Yes Harry, pie and mash."

Another bout of silence took over, Harry wanted to say more but all the stares from Ginny and Neville felt intruding. He was quite sure Anne would never open up with others around.

They had bought snacks off the trolley that passed by. Cauldron Cakes and Chocolate Frogs lay scattered on the table by the time the compartment doors opened again, revealing Ron and Hermione.

"Give me some space, Harry," Ron groaned as he took a seat. "Doing rounds down the train is a bigger pain in the arse that you can imagine. I swear, the second-years are the worst and- Hermione, why are you just standing there?"

Hermione silently acknowledged the question by taking her seat, but she kept her eyes on the lone Slytherin. Ron furrowed his brows as he tried to trace Hermione's line of sight before finally noticing Anya.

"Blimey, when were you here?" Ron sputtered.

"The whole time," Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I didn't ask your opinion," Ron muttered defensively. "So... alright there, Seryy?"

"Yes."

Ron winced slightly at the flat answer, but he took another attempt.

"Much better than Harry here," said Ron. "He had to go for a hearing in front of the Wizengamot."

Harry shot a look at Ron. He would give him credit for the effort, it was an interesting way to play wingman but Harry highly doubted that Anne would ever be forced into the concerned sibling role.

"Since he's still here, I guess he got off then," said Anya, never taking her eyes off her book.

"Yeah, you're right," Ron said lamely.

Harry winced as he felt something crush his foot, he glanced down at his feet and found the culprit. Looking back up, he shot a look at said culprit, Hermione. Hermione matched his look, glaring at him and mouthing the words 'talk to her' in an aggressive fashion.

Gaping at her, Harry gave a slight shrug that said 'what do you mean?'. After all, that was exactly what he tried to do at the start. Another heel hit his feet, Harry grimaced. He should have expected that.

"Have you seen the other Prefects in our year?" Hermione asked.

"Sorry," said Anya, standing up from her seat. "But it's a little too crowded here."

She shimmied past Harry and Ron before exiting the compartment without a backwards glance.

Harry stared blankly as Ron nudged him.

"Come on Harry, go after her."

"What?"

"Go."

"But..."

"Hermione, Harry's not going."

Hermione leaned forward to face Harry. "Harry James Potter, get your arse out of here and go talk to her."

"Alright, alright," Harry relented, leaving his seat to follow his sister. As he left he could hear Neville asking the rest.

"Are they together?"

He could then hear Ron choking on his own saliva.

Shaking his head at the awkwardness of it, Harry jogged down the corridors in the direction of Anya. Finally he came across her at the doors of the train, the door was open and the rushing wind tossed her hair wildly. Anya was seated at the steps of the train door, her legs dangling over nothing aside from the speeding track beneath.

"That's dangerous," Harry said immediately, coming up behind her in case he needed to grab her if she fell.

Anya gave a soft chuckle as she continued to stare at the faraway countryside. Harry grimaced, she looked at ease, as though it was not the first time she dangled her legs off a speeding train. Either that, or she was really brave. Not the first he wished she was in Gryffindor.

"Why'd you leave?" Harry asked.

"I assumed you wanted to speak to me without all the others," she turned back to give a small grin.

She had stood up and left for him. Harry heaved a breath of joyous disbelief at her words, before proceeding to hug her.

"Thanks," he muttered into her hair.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"How about everything?" Harry gave a cheeky grin.

Anya cocked her head sideways and gave a smile, much to Harry's delight. "Sure, why not."

He spent the next hour describing - though the Fidelius Charm prevented him from saying the name - his time in Grimmauld Place, the discussions regarding Voldemort and how his hearing went. Anne gave him every single ounce of attention. Although she never said a single word, Harry could tell she was listening. She smiled softly when he described Sirius talking about her fondly, she gave a slight frown when Harry talked about his hearing and she had a small quirk in her eyebrows when he described about the arduous task of cleaning up Grimmauld Place.

Regardless of how minute and unnoticeable her expressions would sometimes be, his heart warmed at each human display that cemented her as his sister. Harry would not lie, he missed this. Just lying around, and talking with Anne. It made them - well, him - feel like who he was supposed to be, a teenager. And the moments when Anne opened up and spoke, no matter how little she would truly speak about herself, eased the pang in his heart.

Harry did not press her if she had anything about her own summer to share. He merely asked once and when she gave an evasive answer, he took the hint, she would open up more once they got more comfortable. Until then, Harry would do his best to trust her and hope that the feeling was mutual.

"Do you remember when I talked about Lupin?" Harry asked, now deciding to breach a sensitive subject.

"One of our father's friends, yes."

"Can he... you know? Know about you?"

Silence. Harry cringed inwardly.

"He's practically like Sirius," Harry offered.

"I have to meet Astoria," Anya stood up. "I'll let you know later."

Harry could only watch as Anya opened the door to another carriage before disappearing from sight. He sighed, hoping she would take his words into consideration.

**XXXXX**

"So, what did Potter want with you?" Astoria asked as Anya entered the compartment. The younger girl was currently reading the latest piece of the Daily Prophet.

"Nothing much, just wanted to chat," Anya shrugged.

"Didn't realize you were that close with him," Astoria said curiously. "I thought he's only close to Weasley and Granger. For the Boy-Who-Lived, he sure has a small circle of friends."

"Introverted, I guess," Anya shrugged, taking a seat opposite Astoria and drawing her wand.

A swift flick and the door was magically locked, a jab ensured there were no eavesdroppers.

"It's out on the _Daily Prophet_ already?" Anya looked at the cover of the papers.

"Express Edition," Astoria nodded in confirmation. "Daphne picked it up before we boarded."

"I'll have to thank you I guess," said Anya.

_The man appeared, just like Astoria said, that girl was always too sharp. His face was just like in the photos of the file Aleks passed her and she could not detect any magic that could have propped up a false face, the guesswork was solid._

"I said I was in on this, didn't I?" Astoria rolled her eyes. "Just feels... weird, I didn't do it per say, but..."

_A deep breath, same as always. Methodically, calmly, emotionlessly, she lined up the crosshair. The white lines drew taut._

"You basically helped to kill him."

Astoria nodded mutely.

_A soft kickback of the recoil from her rifle and the man fell, the door behind him was painted red. She could see cries of panic from the crowd._

Anya looked at her junior in brief silence before saying. "It should always feel weird, that's what someone once told me."

"But do you feel weird?" Astoria asked.

"Can't say I do."

_They always fall, regardless of who they are, how powerful they are. Everyone dies, one way or another, nothing new._

"So what comes after that?" Astoria asked. "What was the purpose of killing him?"

"Officially, I don't know," said Anya. "I'm not exactly high on the totem pole."

"Unofficially?"

"Unofficially," Anya continued. "My guess is that it's to nip a problem in the bud. Someone's trying to sink their claws in the British Aurors, and nothing sends a message like an assassination."

"Do we know who that someone is?"

"No."

"Just great," Astoria sighed, crossing her arms and sinking into her seat. "I'll have to do my own research then."

"Don't go too far."

"I'm a cautious person."

"Sure."

"So, what now?"

"I wouldn't know. Like I said, I'm low on the totem pole."

"Yeah, sure," Astoria snorted. "Your uncle's the Russian Head of Auror _Forensics_, you only need to ask him, don't you?"

"He's cranky sometimes," Anya shrugged. "But like I've said before, I'll let you know if I need your help."

"Fine," Astoria sighed. "Let's talk about something else."

They steered the conversation away from wetworks and into the studies for the coming year. Astoria, already choosing Runes and Muggle Studies, peppered Anya with questions in order to get an advantage in class. When the sun had long set, Anya bade her farewell, heading back to her compartment.


End file.
